


But you're stuck in my brain

by nakamaRose



Category: Markiplier (YouTube RPF) Jacksepticeye (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, chica makes an appearance, keeping secrets, not a lot, only a little bit of blood, slight angst, worried friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-04-26 03:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14393013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakamaRose/pseuds/nakamaRose
Summary: Who is in control?---Mark can't tell anyone, he has no one to turn to.





	1. Chapter 1

The moon had always interested him, the way it never truly glowed in the night sky, but rather borrowed the light from the fading sun and reflected it back onto the Earth. On clear summer nights he would go out onto his balcony and gaze at it for hours at a time, enjoying the silence and the quiet company the moon provided him. He loved staring up at the night sky, staring up at the stars that seemed so close but were so far from his grasp. He loved trying to find the constellations his father had taught him how to recognize. It brought him comfort, a happiness so deeply situated into his very being he felt that he could no longer go without it.

But now he hated it.

Darkness always came for him at night, when the moon was at its highest, at its brightest, and when it was full and complete. It was like the calm before the storm, when you would see birds flying inland, or watch land animals begin to panic as they sensed the coming storm. It would start off as light as a summer breeze, caressing his body lightly and luring him into a false sense of peace and security. Whispers would bounce through his mind, coming from every direction as if leading him deeper, deeper, deeper into some sort of tunnel where you could never quite reach the end. His body would become heavier and heavier, as if something was putting all of their weight onto him, trying to crawl over him until he was pinned to the ground with nowhere to run. He would begin to wander throughout his home, a hand trailing along the walls as he went from room to room with no specific goal in mind. It never made sense, the endless walking back and forth, but he could never stop, it was as if his limbs were under the command of someone else. It was like he was a puppet with strings connected to his arms and legs, a toy at the mercy of its master. The first time he had tried to take command over his own body had proved disastrous and he had woken up to broken keyboards and expensive camera equipment everywhere. The whispers had been there to greet him, quiet threats echoing until they had become too loud, filling his head until his own thoughts had been drowned out and he had passed out.

_Mark…_

It would always whisper his name, the voice dripping with malevolence and yet, there was something else there, something Mark could never quite place. But he knew something was there. It was as if the darkness was cradling him, reaching out inky black tendrils to wrap around him and drag him down to its lair where no light would penetrate. He didn’t know what it wanted with him, or where it had come from, but it was something that was part of him.

Perhaps, it always had been.

-.-

Mark’s entire body felt like it was on fire, his mind slowly crawling back to consciousness and he had to fight the urge to curl in on himself, to block out the pain and let himself drift back under the blanket of oblivion. He let out a small breath, his body protesting as sharp pains radiated through his chest and down his back. Mark let out a chocked gasp, body twitching involuntary at the sudden rush of pain and unnecessary movements. He could taste the blood that was pooling in his mouth and he gagged, quickly spitting out a small mass of it onto the floor. He took three quick breaths in, fingers curling into fists as he braced himself for the inevitable flash of white that would steal his vision from him when he sat upright. Mark counted to three and then pushed himself up, crying out in pain and panting heavily as he managed to pry himself from the cold hardwood floors of his home. His heavy breathing was joined by a loud ringing in his ears, his vision swimming behind his eyes and he swayed, dangerously close to falling back and losing the progress he had made. He stubbornly persisted though, only slumping slightly down the wall he had propped himself against, and when he felt like he wouldn’t fall again, he opened his eyes.

Chaos greeted him, punching him in the gut and Mark groaned. Littered in front of him were various glass bottles, jagged edges catching the weak morning sun that was entering through his large living room windows. Pieces were scattered further into the room, strewn across his couch as if they were meant to be decorations. Furniture was toppled over and the mirror he had hung was now residing in the tiny kitchenette across from him. Mark rested his head against the wall, eyes raking over the messy state of his living room as a headache began to bloom from somewhere deep within the back of his head. It had happened again. He must have tried to overpower the darkness dwelling within him, what else could have explained the mess that he had woken up to. It was getting stronger, Mark mused as he shifted his body, mouth clamping down around a scream that threatened to escape his chapped lips as he felt searing pain flare up in his shoulder blades. Whatever dark creature had taken hold of him was getting stronger, and this was the first night where he had no recollection of the events leading up to what he assumed, had been a fight for control. Normally his consciousness would have stayed intact, he wouldn’t have necessarily been cut off from moving around on his own if he had wanted to, but it was more like he was delegated to be a backseat driver. Unable to make proper decisions on his own without being influenced by the darkness seeping out from him. Having no memory of what had transpired was worrisome, who knew what sort of havoc the darkness inside of him could cause if it managed to leave his house.

Mark shuddered at this, eyes moving towards the windows once more, thankful for once that he had been instantly enamored with the wall to ceiling aspect. It left no possibility for doubt, no chance to wonder if the creature inside of him would leave through this room. A spasm traveled through Mark’s back and he man grunted in pain. Mark knew he needed to move, knew he should try and clean himself and the room up before anyone else came bounding through his doors.

So, when the sound of a knock at the door sounded throughout his house, the sound of Chica’s loud bark startling him, Mark knew a thing such as fate would forever work against him.

“Mark? Hey Mark!? Are you in there?” Tyler’s voice was muffled from behind the door and Chica’s loud barks had tapered down into soft whines. Mark could hear the sound her claws were making against the floor, her cries steadily becoming higher and higher as her need to see Tyler became increasingly necessary.

“I know you’re in there,” now Tyler’s voice sounded annoyed and Mark exhaled in exasperation. If he had been in better shape, Mark would have cracked a couple jokes by this point and gone to open the door to allow Tyler to enter his home. He would have normally been his cheerful morning self, but as he cleared his throat and turned his head to project his voice down the hall, nothing but creaky air escaped his lips. Mark groaned inwardly, thumping his head against the wall. Great, his fucking voice was gone, this day was just getting better and better by the minute. He didn’t even remember asking Tyler to come over, couldn’t fathom why his childhood friend was currently knocking at his door at—he quickly turned his eyes back to the window, the sun higher up in the sky now and flooding the room with light and it had to be _at least_ eight o’clock in the morning.

“Your car is parked out here man, if this all just some… you know what, I know where the spare key is”. Tyler sounded fed up at this point and Mark couldn’t blame the man. In the early days of their move to California, Mark would often drag Tyler out of bed to start filming one absurd video after the next, often in the early hours of the morning so Mark could make the most of it. They’d often result in Tyler being made the punch line to a joke or Mark would make his friend eat something particularly disgusting just because Mark didn’t want to be the one to eat it.

Chica barked once more, the sound reverberating down the hall, causing Mark to jump once more. He could feel his body shout at him in protest, muscle stretching beyond its limits as he moved on instinct, tilting his head back to grumble at his exuberant dog. She turned at the noises he made, ears perking upright, and tail moving wildly, and she would have run down the hall to shower him in sloppy kisses if Tyler hadn’t opened the door at that exact moment.

Chica’s attention was immediately on the taller man, barking loudly and turning circles as he entered the room, pocketing the spare key as he did so and looking around. Mark caught the eyes of his childhood friend easily, tipping his head forward slightly and offering what he hoped looked like a reassuring grin. It hurt his face enough to get his muscles to work into a smile, but it didn’t appear to work because Tyler’s eyes widened in shock and he nearly ran towards Mark.

“Dude! What the hell! What happened?! Are you okay?!” Tyler kneeled down next to Mark, eyes roaming around the man’s body in search of any other serious injuries. His loud voice boomed in the small space he left between them, and Mark’s ear began to ring again, and he groaned, trying to lift himself so he could put some distance amongst them. Mark tried to talk once more, tried to form the words that were buzzing in his head, words that demanded to be heard. But only air slipped past his lips and he made a noise of discontent deep in his throat and simply gave Tyler a look of disgust.

“Woah, take it easy man,” Tyler picked up on his discomfort and lowered his voice, a hand coming up to rest on Mark’s shoulder to try to get him to stay in place. Chica was oblivious, making her over to Mark’s right side and shoving her snout underneath his arm, tail wagging fiercely. Normally he would have showered love and attention her way, giving her endless pets and hugs, but just the slight pressure from her snout pressing into his arm was enough to make him wince in pain.

“Chica, Chica down girl,” Tyler tried to coax her away from him, swatting a hand in her direction, succeeding in only momentarily distracting her before she was bringing up one of her paws and prodding at Mark’s arm. Mark grunted once more, biting the inside of his lip as Chica inadvertently caused him to jerk his arm away from her relentless search for attention, his body crying out at him to stop moving.

“Come here girl, let’s go get a treat”. Tyler moved to scratch Chica behind the ear, getting up and slapping his hands on the front of his legs to draw her attention solely to him. Mark knew that Tyler was aware of where he kept treats for his beloved pet, and true to form, Tyler made his way over to Mark’s entertainment center. He fished around in one of the lower drawers and pulled out a bag of dog treats, shaking the bag for good measure to grab Chica’s attention. She was at Tyler’s side in an instant, using her snout to get at the treats she knew Tyler was holding in his clenched fist. Tyler picked up one of her toys, it was an orange ball with a small opening at the end, and stuffed the treat inside it, tossing it to the side and while Chica eagerly chased after it. It was only when he was sure that Chica’s attention was focused on getting the treat out, that Tyler turned his attention back to the crumpled mess that was Mark.

“That first aid kit still in the kitchenette?” Tyler pointed in said direction and for a moment, Mark couldn’t remember if it was still there. He often spent most of his time upstairs and had, at the time, lamented on how there wasn’t a first aid kit up there and if something were to happen to him, he’d have to make the trek down the stairs. They could easily be his downfall if badly wounded and something in the back of Mark’s mind was telling him that he had to have moved it. He let out a raspy sigh and looked up at Tyler’s expectant expression, he wanted to shrug his shoulders and play it off but moving still hurt too much and the best he could muster was tipping his head forward.

Tyler narrowed his eyes, frowning, “Don’t tell me you moved it”.

Mark closed his eyes, picking up his head felt like trying to lift a thousand-pound weight and so he let it fall against his chest, a small huff of breath coming out in what would have normally been a laugh. All he heard was Tyler’s quick footsteps across the hardwood flooring afterwards, the bottoms of his sneakers squeaking accompanied the crushing sound of broken glass as Mark figured he was making his way to search the kitchenette. He could hear the sound of drawers _clanging_ open, their contents rattling around a few moments until they settled, Tyler’s annoyed voice throwing in a few curse words before it was slammed shut and everything was unsettled once more. Tyler continued to search, slamming drawers closed when he didn’t find what he wanted, it was draining Mark just _listening_ to his childhood friend search frantically. He wanted to sleep, that sounded nice right now, he didn’t want anyone touching him, moving him, making his body expand energy that it currently didn’t possess. Something told him it wasn’t a good idea, but the small whisper that was tickling the base of his brain was begging him to sleep. It felt like warm arms were encircling around Mark’s body and he could feel himself slowly slide further down along the wall, gravity taking hold of the weight of his body and dragging him down into oblivion once more.

“Hey! Mark, no, stay awake man!” Tyler’s sharp voice bounced off the walls of the room he was in, it sounded further away than what he really was, and it caught Mark’s curiosity as he opened his eyes to see Tyler reaching out to him, eyes colored with concern and Mark continued to watch as his friend took a few steps forward, a rectangular box in his other hand. So, Tyler had found it after all, Mark hadn’t moved the first aid kit upstairs, that was awful nice of him. The thought crossed his mind and as soon as it did Mark frowned, that meant he’d have to get another one and he currently didn’t feel like he could move to go out and buy one. Tyler made his way back over to Mark, kneeling down once more and opened the metal box. He rifled through it until he pulled out a packet of gauze and a small tube of antibiotic ointment.

“I’m going to move you around a bit,” Tyler began, and he slowly placed both of his hands onto Mark’s shoulders. Pain raced down his body and Mark jerked backwards, banging his head against the wall behind him and he cried out in pain. Tyler winced in sympathy but continued and Mark’s nostrils flared as he clenched his hands. When he was finally situated properly he let out a ragged breath, his sides hurting as he breathed in quickly, he felt like he going to pass out or throw up, neither one of those things sounding particularly enjoyable at the moment and Mark made a high-sounding noise that bubbled up from his throat. “I know, I know, hang on,” Tyler’s voice sounded high strung, despite him seemingly having the situation under control. Mark watched as his friend’s hands shook slightly, the tremor traveling its way up his forearm and causing the muscle beneath the skin to twitch. Tyler placed some ointment onto the gauze pad and held it up for Mark to see.

“It’s going to sting but _try_ not to jerk away”. The feeling of the gauze annoyed Mark more than the sting that traveled throughout his face, he hated the rough feeling of it against his skin, but he tried to let Tyler do what he needed to. His friend worked in silence, hand hovering slightly above his face as Tyler tried not to press too hard onto his skin.

“Whatever happened, whoever did this, they really did a number on you”, Tyler finally spoke. He had moved on from cleaning up Mark’s face and was working on taking care of the angry scars littering his knuckles. “But you must have put up a decent fight, judging by the mess your hands are in”, Tyler reached into the first aid kit and brought out some bandages to wrap around Mark’s now clean knuckles. Mark only huffed in response, his voice still failing him and at this point he was done trying to get any sort of words out. Tyler gave him a small smile as he reached into the first aid kit once more and pulled out some painkillers, offering them to Mark.

“I can get you water if you need it,” he began as he shook the bottle a few times to dislodge two capsules. Mark carefully shook his head, he’d had plenty of practice taking medication without water, it was second nature to him. He held out a hand and Tyler dropped them into his palm and Mark popped them into his mouth with any issue. Tyler ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh and letting himself properly sit down by Mark.

“Do you have any idea what happened?” They didn’t sit in silence for long and Tyler’s question making Mark’s stomach twist into knots. There was _no possibility_ in Tyler believing what Mark knew was the truth, that the darkness deep within Mark had reared its ugly head last night and had stuffed his consciousness underneath a suffocating blanket. Mark had done this to himself, he had no one to blame but _himself_. There was no possible way Mark could explain that to Tyler. The man was his childhood friend yes, but even he would have a hard time processing the actual truth of the situation. No, it’d be better to set this aside, he didn’t need Tyler thinking he had jumped off the deep end and was hurting himself intentionally. It wasn’t like Mark had the luxury of using the excuse of drinking too much alcohol, he didn’t own a drop of the stuff in his place and Tyler would instantly be on high alert if he so much as _tried_ to blame it on drinking.

He exhaled softly, rich chocolatey eyes staring up into Tyler’s own worried gaze and shook his head. Tyler’s gaze became even more intense, a frown blooming across his face, a noise of unease coming out of his mouth as he leaned back onto his hands, palms facing down against the hardwood floors. “That isn’t good,” Tyler slowly mused, eyes roaming around the room, “But it also didn’t look like anything from the outside was damaged so…” He trailed off, deep in thought before he moved to stand once more, “I want to check upstairs, but I don’t want to leave you down here by yourself”.

Mark held up a hand at that, shaking his head and proceeded to peal himself from his position on the floor. Tyler made a move to assist him but stopped when he heard Mark’s raspy voice speak, “N-no…” It was so quiet, the word almost like the gentle sigh of the wind running through the leaves of trees on a summer day. Mark himself wasn’t sure if he’d spoken at all either, eyes darting up to look at Tyler to see shock coloring his friend’s face. He blinked a few times before commanding the muscles in his arms to lift him, the pain not quite as intense, and he shakily rose to his feet. Mark’s head swam for a few moments and he placed a hand onto the wall he’d been resting against. Chica’s attention switched from her toy and onto Mark in an instant upon seeing him rise, and she trotted over to him and nudged him with her snout. Mark gave her a small chuckle, running his fingers through her fur before addressing Tyler.

“I-I’ll be-be fine no-now”.

-.-

Tyler stayed well into the late afternoon to help with cleaning up and talking to the police, Mark’s voice was still shot, and he hadn’t been able to speak loud enough over speakerphone for the officer to get an accurate record. He told them as much as he could, how he and Tyler believed someone had broken into his home and how Mark had been in an altercation and had passed out and couldn’t remember what his attacker looked like. The officer had been polite and had tried to gain more information out of Mark, hoping to gain any sort of unique identifier so they could find the culprit quicker, but Mark had nothing to offer. At that, the officer told him his precinct would look into any other break-ins around the area and would get back to him with possible suspects.

Afterwards, Tyler had set off to poke around the house, yelling down at Mark as he came down the stairs two at a time to tell him that he was in the clear. Tyler insisted that Mark get some rest, insisted that he could clean up the glass and vacuum up the couch, but Mark was as stubborn as they came and merely took out a broom and began to slowly sweep everything into the middle of the living room. It took them a couple of hours of careful cleaning, but the two men managed to get Mark’s home back into working order. Tyler practically made himself at home once they were finished, hijacking Mark’s Netflix account and kicking off his shoes as he situated himself onto the sofa on the second story living space. Mark thought about letting him know that he’d be fine on his own, that he didn’t need Tyler there to keep a watch out for anything suspicious, but the way Tyler had looked at him earlier flashed through his mind. The look of concern and worry that had been painted there so plainly for Mark to see. Tyler was only trying to offer his support, and Mark knew that Tyler knew that Mark was too proud to ever reach out for help, particularly when he was feeling stubborn enough. So, Mark didn’t feel the need to bring it up, he knew it would only end in them bickering and he honestly didn’t have the strength in him to physically kick Tyler out.

“I’m glad you sent me that text last night,” Tyler began from his spot on the couch, he had one arm tossed casually on the back of the couch, the other holding the remote as he clicked past the shows. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t”, he turned his head towards Mark, who was rummaging around in the kitchen, and flashed him a toothy grin. Mark gave his childhood friend a small smile of his own before Tyler turned around and continued to search for something to watch. It was a good thing, Mark thought as he pulled out a couple of open boxes of popcorn and debated on which one he wanted, caramel or lightly salted.

Sometime during the night Mark had found the strength to surface and had quickly sent Tyler a somewhat urgent text that had simply told his friend to meet him early the next morning. When they had first settled down onto the couch after cleaning, Tyler had brought it up, showing the message to Mark, but Mark had no recollection of sending it. He tried to play it off convincingly, stating that he must’ve hit his head too hard and couldn’t remember anything and there was some truth to that. Mark didn’t actually remember sending anything to Tyler, all he could remember was feeling like he had been drowning and that he had broken through to the surface to gasp for breath for a few precious moments, only to then be shoved back under.

The feeling terrified Mark and he gripped the box of caramel popcorn tightly, crushing the small box in the process. The more thought he put into it, the more he felt himself being pulled back in. He could feel the tips of his fingers becoming cold, could feel the heavy weight of that blanket being pulled up his body and Mark had to quickly shake his head to regain his composure.

“Caramel or salty?” Mark’s voice was slightly strained, but it must’ve simply sounded like he was having a difficult time deciding between the two because Tyler didn’t sound the least bit concerned when he replied, “Salty, duh”.

Mark tossed the crumpled box of caramel popcorn to the side, reaching into the slightly salty box and pulling out a bag of popcorn, ripping off the plastic covering and tossing it into the trash. He just had to keep it together in front of Tyler, let the man believe that it was break-in and not Mark fighting against something his friend couldn’t see or hear. Mark opened the microwave, scanning the pouch for the correct amount of time he needed, and threw it in. He could do this, he could keep it together, he didn’t need to unnecessarily involve anyone else, they wouldn’t believe him anyway.

_**Well isn’t that pessimistic of you…** _

Mark _slammed_ the door to the microwave closed–he could see Tyler jump at the noise and could see that his childhood friend had turned to face him with that annoyed look on his face, clearly chastising him–but Mark couldn’t make anything else out but that jarringly smooth voice that tickled the back of his mind. He could feel the way his heart started to pick up, could feel the blood rushing to his ears and it made his muscles tense, they were ready to spring and fight at a moment’s notice. Mark was vaguely away of the apology that fell from his mouth as he turned back around and hurriedly punched in some numbers and started the microwave.

_**You’re going to ignore me now? Oh, I’m hurt.** _

_Just leave me alone._ Mark clenched his hands into fists, moving to the kitchen island and turning around so his back faced Tyler, he didn’t need to be seen making faces at the air and have Tyler question him.

Maybe that’s exactly what you need. The voice was taunting, trying to get a rise out of him and Mark was doing his best to ignore it.

You shouldn’t be here, I can lock you up. Mark bit the inside of his lip, staring at the numbers on the microwave as the slowly counted down. That inky darkness inside of him might have been able to take control but Mark had found he _could_ lock him away just as easily, though, it mentally drained him, and it often left him with a mild headache for at least a week. It had been enough to make the creature inside of him falter in its tracks, make it slink back into the hole it had climbed out of, but Mark had only been giving it time to grow stronger. He should have locked up that darkness inside of him better, but how was Mark to know that the dark creature had razor sharp claws? There wasn’t exactly a manual he could read that would contain all the answers to his questions.

_**Oh dear, how foolish of you to think that.** _

Mark rolled his eyes, he was used to hearing the creature talking down to him and he had long since given up trying to reward it with his responses.

**_Keep holding onto your corrupted hope, Mark._ **

There was bite behind the words, a malice so dark and thick it left Mark feeling like the creature was right behind him. Wrapping its tendrils around him slowly, before it would inevitably close in around him and hold him prisoner.

The microwave beeped, and Mark pushed himself off from the island, opening the door and allowing the steam to leave before carefully reaching in and grabbing hold of the bag. He could hold his own against this darkness, he had been successful so far, despite the beating his body had taken, but Mark felt that he could gather the strength to keep the creature at bay. It only ever seemed to come for him during full moons and Mark knew, thank god for his love of space, that they typically happened every twenty-nine days. That would be plenty of time for him to build up his mental fortitude and keep the creature behind closed doors. Mark closed the microwave door, setting the bag down onto the counter to cool as he grabbed a bowl from one of his cabinets. It would all be perfectly fine, he’d just had a minor slip, besides, if the creature inside of him could get stronger, Mark reasoned that so could he. Mark could keep the darkness within him and prevent it from taking over, he just had to stay strong.

**_Wishful thinking, fool._ **

Mark rolled his eyes again, tearing open the bag of popcorn and shaking the contents before pouring it into a bowl.

 _You’re never getting out_ , he sent back as he emptied the bag and crushed it in his hand before he threw it into the trash.

_**I’ve already tasted freedom, and I’m not giving up. I’ll have my way.** _

Mark scoffed lightly, grabbing the bowl and moving back towards Tyler whose face lit up at the sight of the salty snack.

 _You’re nothing but a greedy monster_ , he thought as he settled down next to his friend and grabbed a handful of popcorn. Mark wasn’t about to let the creature think it had won simply because it had managed to take control once. Now that Mark had been made aware of its growing power, he was going to take every chance he had to stop it from ever taking control again.

**_Please, I’m no monster, call me, Dark._ **

The creature, _Dark_ he supposed, sounded too comfortable, overly confident in his abilities. It only unsettled Mark momentarily before he could feel Dark leave, as if turning his back to him and walking away of his own volition. It left this oddly empty feeling at the back of Mark’s skull and he didn’t know what was worse, feeling like a part of him was missing, or wanting to reach out and touch the inky darkness once more.

-.-

Mark lay awake in his bed hours after he had bid Tyler goodnight, staring up at his ceiling as he wondered when sleep would come for him. Dark’s words still echoed in his head, how he had tasted freedom and was now going to be a bigger nuisance because of it. Mark rolled over onto his side, staring at his window, the curtains moving slightly back and forth in the small breeze that was blowing. If Dark was already strong enough to muscle his way into the forefront of Mark’s mind, there was no telling what the monster would do during the next full moon. Mark brought a bandaged hand up to his face, inspecting it in the small amount of light that was able to filter in through his curtains. That had been just a taste of what Dark had to offer, and his words had been a promise that more would soon follow if Mark didn’t give him what he wanted. He tucked his hand back against his body, rolling back over to face his nightstand. Mark could make out the shape of Chica sleeping on her bed, her head slightly lifted up and sniffing at the air as she was probably wondering what he was doing awake.

“It’s okay Chica, dad’s just having trouble sleeping”.

His voice, even at a whisper, sounded too loud but it didn’t bother Chica in the least. Mark watched as she slowly stood from her bed on the floor, stretching before shaking her entire body and moving to jump onto the bed. She plopped into the empty space next to Mark, nuzzling him with her snout, before laying her head down and letting out a sigh. He couldn’t help but gently scratch her behind the ears. No matter what, Chica always knew how to make him feel better. She had the uncanny ability to pick up on his emotions and was always quick to provide comfort. Chica always seemed to have that knowing look in her eyes, a look that told him that things were going to be all right, even if everything seemed dismal.

Mark settled further under his covers and brought his body closer to Chica, pressing his face into her comforting fur. Maybe everything would turn out for the better, maybe he could handle Dark on his own. If Dark could block Mark out, then Mark could do the same to him.

His phone chimed, light bursting to life and flooding his room. It caused Chica to bolt upright, the sound of the tags on her collar were loud as they clanged against one another and Mark apologized to her softly as he reached over her to grab his phone. It was a Tweet from Jack that was in all capitals that simply read, **SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!!!** Mark couldn’t help the snort of laughter that slipped past his lips and he tugged on his phone to release it from the charger. He tapped on Jack’s screenname, his phone opening up his Twitter feed and taking him to Jack’s page. He quickly typed out a response, telling his Irish friend that he needed to be asleep, it was 7 o’ clock in the morning over there and just thinking about it was finally starting to make Mark feel tired. He set his phone down onto his chest, feeling like he was about to drift off when it buzzed against him, jolting him back awake.

 **Jacksepticeye:** _YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!!!_

Again, it was all in capital letters and Mark simply shook his head, he had no idea where Jack kept all of his energy. Some days it seemed like the man was a child who had been given too much candy and was running around in circles. Mark didn’t bother to respond, he could feel his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier and maybe his mind was finally winding down and letting him fall asleep…

But his phone buzzed again and with an annoyed groan, Mark picked it up and squinted into the bright screen.

**_Jack:_ ** _Shouldn’t you be the one asleep?_

Mark brought a hand up and ran it down his face, the stubble of his beard making a rough noise against the bandages that were there. As much as he was _now ready_ to go to sleep, it seemed that he was going to be awake for a little while longer.

 ** _Mark:_** _I was about to, but I guess sleep’s not coming_. Mark let his phone fall onto his chest once more, rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands. Chica stirred next to him, letting out a huff of air in annoyance and Mark once again apologized to her, petting her head gently as he propped a few pillows to rest against, might as well get comfortable.

 ** _Jack:_** _Oh…sorry about that! I can just, let you go then._

Mark frowned, staring down at the message for a few moments. Sleep _did_ sound nice, especially since he’d just been on the cusp of doing so, but suddenly he felt like the gloom and doom that had permeated his inner most thoughts had lifted slightly. It was odd how that always seemed to happen whenever he spoke to Jack, it was if the Irishman had a super power that was completely unique to him. What Mark would give to have the ability to banish Dark, a literal darkness within him that had made itself a home inside of his head.

 ** _Mark:_** _Nah, it’s fine dude._

 ** _Jack:_** _Really? Are you sure?_

 ** _Mark:_** _Yes, I’m sure, actually, mind if I call ya?_

The idea slipped past the part of Mark’s brain that processed thoughts before speaking them and he was already hitting send before he could take it back. He stared down at the words, instantly regretting them. Jack could stay awake for extended periods of time, but Mark was sure he was doing something productive, possibly doing some early morning editing or playing a game he couldn’t put down. Besides, why would he want to have Jack call him at this time of night anyway? The two would normally voice chat, or even Skype one another, every so often, normally when one of them wanted to bounce ideas off the other. And honestly, they had just spoken to one another a couple weeks ago, and it wasn’t like they didn’t send each other ridiculous texts, constantly trying to one-up each other with new jokes or hilarious photoshop images.

Mark had been about to send a follow up text to let Jack know that he was fine when his phone started to buzz, a photo of Jack’s happy-go-lucky face appearing on the screen. Mark quickly tapped the accept button, brushing back his hair as he brought his phone up to his ear.

“H-Hello?”, Mark called out tentatively. He could hear a bit of shuffling from Jack’s end, as if the Irishman’s speaker was rubbing up against his clothes and suddenly Mark wondered if the younger man had butt dialed him. He called out again and waited a couple more moments, the sounds of a door creaking and the creak of some chair wheels worming their way into his ears, before the ever-boisterous sound of his Irish friend finally came through.

“Sorry ‘bout that! I got hungry and made a quick bite teh eat!” Mark chuckled quietly to himself as he heard Jack plop himself down into his gaming chair, the chair exuding a huff of air, followed by the loud _clink_ of dishes against a solid surface and a few curses from Jack. He must’ve almost dropped whatever he was eating, Mark mused as he leaned farther into the pillows.

“I’m surprised you even eat,” Mark began, his voice light as he spoke, Jack was notorious for forgetting to eat proper meals during the day.

“I eat all the time, but…it’s mostly like, a nibble ‘ere ‘nd there”, Jack explained through a mouthful of food, the sound of fabric rubbing against the speaker filled Mark’s ears again as he guessed Jack was trying to find a comfortable position to hold his phone and eat at the same time.

“So, I hear,” Mark drawled, and it earned him an annoyed huff of breath from Jack, but the Irishman said nothing more.

“You asked me what I was doing awake but… _have you_ even slept?” There was a loud clang, followed by Jack cursing once more, a little louder and with more of his accent highlighting the words that fell from his mouth.

“Maybe,” Jack spoke once more as he composed himself, the word sounding as if Mark had caught him eating cookies for breakfast and if the older man was being honest with himself, he wouldn’t have put it past Jack to snag a cookie to eat in the early hours of the day.

“But it’s practically morning over here, it’s _nighttime_ over there”, Jack’s words were muffled once more as he stuffed his face with food once again.

“Yeah,” Mark began slowly, taking his phone away from his face to check the time, it was rather late for him, “It’s like I said, I couldn’t sleep”. The small smile that had been on Mark’s face fell slightly, the words had left his mouth with more bite behind them then he had intended, perhaps he should cut this late-night phone call with the Irishman short, he didn’t want to say anything that might offend him. Jack hummed from his end of the line, the sound of keys from a keyboard intermingling with the sound of the Irishman’s breathing before Jack spoke once more, “‘Sgood dude…” and then, “rough day?”

Mark let out a slow breath of air, weighing the words that he _wanted_ to say with the ones he knew he _should_ say.

“Yeah…I guess you could say that…” Mark could hear the sound of Jack’s dishes hitting a solid surface again, the man clearing his throat before saying, “Well, I’m sure yeh’ll get through it, I’m ‘ere teh talk to whenever”. Mark brought a hand up to clench at the shirt he was wearing, crumpling up the fabric. How was it that Jack could remain so positive in the face of uncertainty? It made Mark’s stomach twist into knots, an anxious energy coursing through his body and suddenly he felt more awake.

“Look…don’t freak out or anything, okay?” Mark began, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He clamped his mouth shut as he could hear Jack shifting in his seat, “…okay…?” the Irishman began cautiously. There was no turning back now, he had Jack’s attention and if he decided to change the direction of conversation, he knew the younger man would bring it back up at a later date.

“So, like, no big deal or anything but…someone broke into my house—” he could hear the sharp intake of breath from Jack, the man presumably about to go into a long list of questions. Was he, all right? Who did this? Did they take anything of value? Mark waited for a moment, but it sounded as if Jack was keeping silent, waiting for Mark’s que to go ahead and ask what he wanted.

“I’m fine, and so is Chica, and before you ask, yes. Yes, I have someone here with me. Tyler’s asleep downstairs”. Mark let out a shaky breath that he didn’t know he was holding and let his hand that gripped his shirt go and gently fall back to his side.

Jack was quiet on his end of the line, the only indication Mark had that reassured him that he hadn’t lost connection was the loud breath of air that came from the Irishman. “Jaysus, I’m glad yer okay… no wonder yeh can’t sleep…I wouldn’t be able teh either”. Genuine concern coated Jack’s words and they only served to make Mark feel _worse_ about the fact that he was withholding the truth from him. The Irishman was just one more person on a never-ending list Mark was creating, a list of people who he couldn’t share the truth with. He felt awful about it, Mark had spent years telling Jack that he could confide his deepest secrets to him with the promise that Mark wouldn’t discuss them with anyone else.

“Yeah,” Mark started quietly, “It’s like I can still feel someone else is here with me…” It was the closest he felt he could get without telling Jack too much.

“Don’t worry, whoever did t’at is gone now,” Jack’s voice boomed confidently but it only drove a shiver down Mark’s spine. He wasn’t alone, not truly, Mark could feel him, could feel Dark. The creature was beginning to stir, tendrils gently prodding the back of Mark’s mind the more he spoke to Jack. He could hear the quiet whispers starting up again, voices blending together until it sounded like a thousand birds chirping endlessly. Mark could feel Dark’s curiosity growing, his own dark energy moving faster as it began to close around him, and Mark could feel the tips of his fingers grow numb, the grip on his phone slowly loosening. It was always odd, whenever Dark did this, how he managed to worm his way through Mark’s body until he broke out and made his appearance on the surface. Mark always thought it should have scared him more, how it should have put him on edge. But that was never the case, it was like he was lucid dreaming. Mark could feel Dark’s energy travel up his body further, pressing into him as Mark took in a small breath, the creature wiggling in until Mark exhaled once more.

“I’m never alone, Jack. I’ve always got company”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration to write is always so fickle... but here's a little of my own interpretation of a Dark/Mark relationship. There are some really good works out there that I feel like are far better than this but, it's fun to try and write Mark! I identify more with Jack and his personality so this was nice to branch out.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack was taken aback by Mark’s comment, the words sounding slightly… _off_ , as if the older man was intentionally enunciating each word. It caused the Irishman to sit straighter, propping both elbows onto his desk as he gazed at a corner of his computer, eyes flicking back and forth as they stared at nothing in particular, his eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“That’s true,” he began slowly, “Yeh got Tyler and Chica there with yeh, nothin’ they can’ handle”. Jack kept his voice even and light, Mark was probably still shaken up over the break-in and that was what probably was making him sound so odd. It would take some time before the American was back to his normally rowdy self. But then why was Jack beginning to feel uneasy? Mark hadn’t said anything back yet, the only sound that emanated from Jack’s speaker was that of the older man’s breath. He let the silence stretch for a few more heartbeats, surely Mark must be recollecting the events that had unfolded over the past few hours, before he loudly cleared his throat and threw himself against the back of his gaming chair.

“So, uh…I guess I should…let yeh get some rest,” Jack’s eyes flicked back and forth from the left-hand corner of his ceiling to the right. Silence once again followed his words, but then he could hear a small groan from the other side of his speakers. It started off faint before getting louder and the uneasiness that had settled in the pit of Jack’s stomach started to dissipate.

“Yeah, yeah that’s probably best,” Mark’s voice sounded muffled and Jack could just make out the sound of skin rubbing against stubble.

“Thanks, by the way, for this,” Mark quickly added, his voice clearer, less like the older man was thinking too hard about the words he wanted to say. Jack smiled to himself, spinning in his chair, “Yeah man, yeh know I’m just a phone call away”. He heard Mark snort, a soft chuckle filling his ears.

“I know, I know…” Mark sighed and for a few seconds Jack thought his phone had finally died, cutting off the older man’s farewell to him. Jack pulled his phone away from his face, an older picture of Mark greeting him. His phone was at fifteen percent, not quite low enough for him to run and grab his charger from his bedroom, but enough to start up the concern once more. The Irishman frowned, putting his phone back up to his face, lips parted to call out Mark’s name and see if the older man was still on the line when said man’s voice spoke.

“Good talking with you, Jack. Goodnight”. The sound of the dial tone was all Jack heard, the words he’d meant to say dying on his lips. Jack slowly brought his phone down from his face again, his lock screen greeting him before dimming and then going black. That uneasy feeling only intensified, it wasn’t that Mark couldn’t simply hang up the way he did, the man was free to do what he wanted. It was more, how Mark had sounded when he’d bid him goodnight. His voice had been deep and low, as if the words had come from deep within his throat. It could have just been Mark’s voice becoming heavy as fatigue finally settled within him, and he’d just wanted to get some sleep. But this was different, something about their brief conversation had Jack’s stomach churning and his mind racing.

**Would yeh stop thinkin’ in circles? Yer a goddamn nuisance, worryin’ ‘bout that git.**

Jack could feel a wave of intense energy surge through him, making him grit his teeth at the sheer strength of how intense it felt. It bloomed at the back of his neck and quickly traveled down to the tips of his toes, some of it collecting in the pit of his stomach and making his entire body feel warm and numb. The Irishman could feel his left eye begin to twitch and he angrily rubbed at it, a sharp sting greeting him when he pressed to hard against the sensitive organ. He let out a huff of breath, shivering violently for a few seconds and Jack had to close his eyes and breath through his nose in order to ground himself. He hated when Anti did this, hated when the virus let his emotions get the better of him and, as a result, would open up their shared mental connection. Everything Anti was feeling at a certain moment in time were emotions that Jack would in turn feel as well. It didn’t happen nearly as often as it used to, back when Anti had made his presence first known, but when it happened now it normally took Jack’s breath away. The virus was strong-willed and stubborn, something that must have rubbed off on him from Jack’s own personality.

“Mark’s not a git, Anti,” Jack drawled as he rubbed at his temples. His eye had stopped twitching but now he was being faced with a headache due to Anti’s emotional outburst, never mind that it had been a minor one. Jack could feel the way the energy inside his body surged again, Anti clearly not giving a damn in the slightest at how Jack groaned loudly in discomfort. It was how the virus communicated with him when he was feeling particularly ornery.

For the most part, the two lived with one another fairly peacefully. It was rare to feel one of Anti’s emotional outbursts to such a powerful extent, most of the time he never really bothered opening up that particular channel to Jack. It had only been in the early stages of their… _relationship_ …that they had truly butt heads against one another. Each one trying to shove the other aside, so they could claim full ownership over Jack’s body. It wasn’t anything that had lasted too long, a few serious altercations here and there and then one day Jack had woken up to find that Anti was suddenly disinterested in _intentionally_ bothering him. It still perplexed Jack as to why the virus had had such a switch in personality like that but ever since, Anti had been far less of a headache to deal with and Jack detested the idea of bringing it up.

**Maybe teh yeh, sure. Yer runnin’ ‘round with those rose-colored glasses.**

Jack opened his eyes at that remark, frowning deeply once more to the point where his eyebrows met in the middle. He was optimistic yes, but Jack wasn’t naïve, the Irishman knew how cruel the world could really be. It was something he was regularly subjected to whenever he turned on his computer and looked up recent news events. Now sure, maybe when it came to Mark, Jack more often than not, gave the man the benefit of the doubt. Whenever the older man was particularly snippy with him Jack always chalked it up to his friend just having a bad day, those things happened more often than he cared to admit in their line of work. Tonight’s conversation had probably been nothing more than the stress and anxiety of having his home broken into manifesting itself into making Mark sound a bit odd. That and the older man had probably been up for hours before Jack had taken him up on his offer to call him. He just needed some time to process and reorganize his thoughts before he’d be up and running again, surely.

But then why did it still bother him? Why couldn’t he just accept that as a suitable answer and move on?

He ran a hand through his hair, it was getting longer and absently he thought about getting cut again when the idea swiftly left his mind, the feeling of a sharp tug on the strands of his hair distracting him.

“I mean it Anti, Mark ain’t no git,” Jack whirled his head around, rubbing a hand against the back of his head as the tugging sensation slowly faded. His eyes scanned the room, the back of his mind tingling slightly at Anti’s amusement over his own childish antics. Jack huffed in annoyance, turning back to face his computer, grabbing the edge of his desk and pulling himself forward with the intent of getting back to work. He didn’t have time to argue, nor indulge Anti in his little games. Jack pulled his keyboard closer to him when he once again felt a tug on the back of head, this time harder with the intent behind it meaning that Anti wanted his undivided attention.

“What deh want?!” Jack seethed through clenched teeth, his hands coming out to slap the solid wood surface of his desk. The air around him was quiet, the only other sound he could hear was the soft hum of his fan that sat underneath his desk. The Irishman gave it a few more moments before he felt Anti stir within his mind, stretching out as if he were a cat that had been disturbed from its spot near the window as it was sunbathing.

**Nothin’ if yer gonna act like a fuckin’ child.**

“It’s clearly _not_ nothin’ if yeh won’t stop pulling on meh fuckin’ hair,” Jack muttered sullenly, he really didn’t know why he kept bothering to entertain Anti when the virus clearly just wanted to mess with him.

“Look,” Jack began as he tried to control his anger, knowing that it was in part a piece of Anti’s own emotions that were beginning to rub off on him, “I have shit I need to get done today so, if yer just going teh be a nuisance for the sake of…being a nuisance, I suggest yeh _f_ u _ck off_ ”.

The large amount of raw energy that had been pooling in the pit of his stomach seemed to intensify for a brief moment, reacting to how Anti seemed to literally seethe at being told off my Jack. But in the same moment that Jack steeled himself for a potential backlash, the feeling dissipated and Jack could sense how Anti slowly rolled his eyes, as if the conversation were now boring _him_ and it had been _Jack_ who had been pestering him with endless questions. The Irishman wasn’t sure what worried him more, the fact that Anti _hadn’t_ lashed out at him for talking back or the fact that the virus seemed to instantly deflate, almost as if he were turning his back to Jack. The back of his skull buzzed, and Jack considered dipping down into their shared connection, consider closing the distance between their minds and figuring out what it was that had Anti acting like a child…

**Yer a blind one yeh are, Jackaboy**

But Anti’s words cut off Jack’s attempt at entering his mind and Jack could feel the way the energy seemed to travel back up his body, Anti’s way of retreating back into a dark corner where Jack couldn’t touch him. It wasn’t long before Jack was alone in his mind, for the time being, and he brought a hand up to run his fingers through his beard. It wasn’t like Anti to simply _let_ Jack talk back to him like he had. What happened more often was, _if_ Jack managed to get his own punches in, Anti was always there ready to give it back to him ten times as hard. Just because the two had managed a shaky partnership, didn’t mean they always got along. It was a lot of give and take, with Jack mostly having to be the one to give and Anti being the one who was greedy.

“Jaysus Jack, whatcha doin’ yellin’ in room by yerself!” A loud voice boomed from the other side of Jack’s door and it caused him to lurch backwards in his chair, his eyes wide for a split second until he realized who it was that was speaking to him.

“Yeh can come in, sis, door’s open”. Jack schooled his features and brought one leg up to cross over the other as the door slowly opened to reveal the tired looking face of his second oldest sister. Her hair stuck up in random directions and she held a cup of what, Jack presumed, was coffee as she stepped further into the room and leaned against his padded wall.

“Sorry if I woke yeh,” Jack began apologetically, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment as his sister leveled him with a mildly annoyed glare. There had been a reason back when he had first started recording videos that he had taken it upon himself to move in a smaller wood cabin on his parent’s property. Jack had a high and loud voice that he used to entertain the millions of people watching him, and it was still true to this day and further supported by the sour look his sister was giving him.

The sharp edges in her face seemed to melt away, however, and the icy stare she had been staring at her youngest brother with vanished, leaving only warmth and fondness in her pale blue eyes. “I’ll let it slide, jus’ teh once”, she gave him a cheeky little grin before taking another sip of coffee and then added, “Who were yeh talkin’ teh? Was it yer girlfriend again?”

“Who, Penny? Nah, she’s busy workin’ this morning, I was talkin’ to Mark”. Jack watched the way his sister’s grin developed into a full-blown smirk, mischief bright in her eyes as clicked her tongue in a taunting manner.

“Ignorin’ yer girlfriend fer t’at boy of yers,” she shook her head and crossed one arm across her chest, holding her coffee cup loosely in her other hand.

Jack merely rolled his eyes, breathing out in mild annoyance, “No, I told yeh, she has work, besides, she’s talked teh Mark a couple of times and they’ve gotten along so far”. The Irishman watched the way the look in his sister’s eyes didn’t change, she didn’t appear to be satisfied with his answer because she shook her head once more.

“T’at boy of yers might steal yer girl there Jackaboy,” she chided lightly at him, the smirk still gracing her fair features, corners of her eyes crinkling ever so slightly. Jack stuck out his lip at her, the way that he used when they were children and she would catch him in her room. The Irishman knew his sister was only teasing him, it wasn’t very often that he had one of siblings come down to visit him, so despite how annoying the teasing was, it was something that Jack found he could let slide.

“Mark isn’t “my boy”, sis, he’s jus’ a friend,” he leaned back in his chair and folded his own arms across his chest. The popularity of his and Mark’s ship name hadn’t been something that had been overlooked by his siblings. They all loved to tease Jack whenever he called back home in the early days of his friendship with Mark. Jack was never really bothered by it, having his siblings tease him about how close he was with his friends was nothing new. Back in Primary School, Jack had become incredibly close with one of the boys, his name was Daniel, who had lived next door to him. They would play late into the evening, chasing one another outside and tossing rocks to see who could throw them the farthest.

It’d been the first time that anyone had extended any sort of kindness towards Jack, someone other than his immediately family that was willing to talk to him about anything and everything. Jack had been devastated when Daniel had moved, moping for weeks on end and losing interest in almost everything he had done before hand. It had been so bad that his siblings had teased him about it, poking fun at how attached he had become and how he was in for a ride if this was how he handled a little heartbreak such as losing a close friend. His oldest sister had teased him the most about it, telling Jack that he would need to toughen up if he ever wanted to create any sort of relationship with members of the opposite sex.  
Jack hadn’t quite understood what she had meant as she had gone off spouting her elderly wisdom about how girls would start to like boys and how boys would start to like girls. At the tender age of eleven, Jack had thought love was something two friends, no matter their gender, felt towards one another, and as his sister had talked to him, all Jack could remember was the way his heart would swell every time Daniel complimented him or offered him half of his cookie. It was something he had kept to himself, tucking it away the older he got when he realized what society expected of him.

“This isn’t ‘nother _Daniel scenario_ , if that’s what yer getting’ at by the by”, Jack said in annoyance as he flicked his gaze down onto the floor. He and Mark were incredibly close, as close as two friends could possibly get, there wasn’t anything the two men wouldn’t talk to each other about except…well…Anti never really came up in conversation. Jack pursed his lips at this, he figured that if he ever bothered to tell Mark about the virus dwelling within him that the older man would take it as a joke and poke fun at him for weeks on end until it would inevitably become old and Jack would no longer squirm, taking all the fun out of it for Mark.

“I’d never imply such a t’ing Jack,” his sister narrowed her eyes at him and it made Jack want to slink further down in his chair, to become small and unnoticeable so that he could get back to work. She noticed the way he was fidgeting in his chair and gave a small sigh, “Yeh know I mean well Seán, it’s been ages since I’ve gotten’ to tease yeh”. She made her way to where Jack was slumping down in his chair, running her fingers through his hair before ruffling it up and making it stand up at odd angles. Jack made a noise of discontent in the back of his throat, but otherwise allowed his sister to ruffle his hair, it _was_ good to have her here visiting at least.

“Besides,” she began as she looked down at him, “I don’ care who yeh end up datin’ yeh know, mum and dad wouldn’t either if yeh’d jus’ tell ‘em”. Jack groaned loudly, bringing both hands up to rub at his face, he was starting to regret offering up his home to his sister and if she was going to be asking anything more about his love life, then this was going to be the longest weekend visit of his life. She was the only one of his entire family that had the slightest inclination as to what is was that Jack liked in other people, and there was a part of him that was always terrified that she would blurt out his secret to his entire family.

“Yeah, I know,” he began quietly as he moved to sit straighter in his chair. She flashed a bright smile down at him, running her fingers through his hair once more before taking a few steps back as she said, “Now then, how ‘bout yeh treat yer dear old sister teh somethin’ teh eat?”

-.-

“But thank yeh guys and I’ll see all yeh dudes, in the next video!” Jack’s voice pitched slightly, cracking around the last few words and he cleared his throat, bringing a hand up to massage at the flesh around his Adam’s apple. He swallowed a couple times, cringing at the burning sensation he felt, and leaned forward in his chair to make sure his camera had been recording. It didn’t happen as often as it used to, but there were still days where Jack would find a good rhythm between game commentary and actual gameplay and it would end being a waste of time. All because he had forgotten to press the record button or check to make sure that there was audio, it was something that was now a force of habit and Jack was grateful for it. He brought his camera down from his setup and sifted through the amount of footage he had, making sure he could hear himself and that he was actually in focus.

“Yeh’ve fuckin’ done it again Jackaboy,” the Irishman gleefully patted himself on the back for another job well done and proceeded to import the footage onto his computer, so he could send it off to Robin for editing. He grabbed the cup of tea he had next to his keyboard and took a few sips as he waited for all of his footage and flipped through his phone for a few moments. Jack figured he could take the time to look up new games to play while he waited, so often his automatic response when picking up his phone was to look at all of his friend’s posts on Twitter and some days it sunk his spirits.

It was hard living so far away from all of his good friends who lived over in the States, Jack found himself often daydreaming about going on adventures with them as they showed him new places to eat or new sights to see. He wanted to be able to physically see them more often, but he dreaded the idea of moving even farther away from home. The move from his home in Ireland to the UK had been a jarring one, but a move that he had soon acclimated to and with little friends to support him at the time. Jack was sure that if he brought up moving to the States with Mark and the others would have everyone flock to his side to offer their support, he wouldn’t be on his own this time around. Jack looked up from his phone towards the small webcam he had set up on his smaller monitor, imagining himself hanging out in the flesh with his friends instead of being stuck behind a screen.

His daydream didn’t last long however, as his phone buzzed in his hand and his blue eyes fell down to stare at the device in his hand.

_**Mark:** No luck yet, but at least there haven’t been any other break-ins around here._

For a moment Jack was puzzled, confused by the message he’d received from Mark until the Irishman remembered that he had asked the older man how the search for the culprit had been going just a few hours earlier. It’d been almost three weeks since the initial break-in at Mark’s home and Jack had decided to see how everything had been going. The older man had been posting a few videos here and there and for the most part, they appeared to be older videos as Jack could make out how Mark’s hair appeared to be shorter and his beard a little better kept. He was keeping the break-in away from the public eye, which was just as well. Jack didn’t want the older man to have to endure the flood of well wishes and speculation from the fan base about who could have done such a thing, it was just another stressor that Mark didn’t really need at the moment.

 _ **Jack:**_ _Sorry to hear about that man, I’m sure something will turn up :)_

The smiley emote was something he hadn’t meant to send to Mark, it was just something he occasionally added to texts with Penny or when he was feeling particularly cheerful when creating a new Tweet. By the time he realized he had tagged it onto the end of his sentence, it was too late. The message was sent off to soon be read by Mark. Jack stared down at his phone, his cheeks burning in embarrassment as he was sure the older man would tease him about it, commenting on how he was talking to Penny too much and didn’t spend nearly enough time with him. When the thought crossed Jack’s mind he frowned, his hand coming up to scratch at his beard as he considered the weird warmth that was beginning to form in the bottom of his stomach. Almost on instinct, he carefully reached out towards Anti, mind gently brushing against the other to see if it was him that was causing him to feel this way. The virus stirred slightly at his presence, and Jack could imagine that he was rolling over to lazily stare at him, what with the way Anti’s energy idly flowed in his direction. Jack could feel Anti’s interest pick up, it wasn’t often Jack sought him out, and the virus almost extended a bit of his own mind out for Jack to touch. It was like Anti was inviting him to share a connection with him and Jack almost wanted to return the favor when he felt Anti’s energy crack like a whip, hitting him square in the chest and causing him to gasp in pain.

Jack roughly yanked his mind away from Anti’s energy as he heard the virus laugh faintly, his energy crawling back to him and caressing Jack in a taunting manner before disappearing altogether. The Irishman brought a hand up to his chest in annoyance and gently rubbed small circles into the sensitive section where he had been hit with Anti’s energy. At least Jack couldn’t feel the virus poking his mind into his business, it seemed like he didn’t want anything to with Jack or his feelings. And speaking of, perhaps he was just anxious to hear how Mark was holding up and dealing with the aftermath of the break-in. The older man wasn’t without friends nearby to check in on him if need be but, it still didn’t put Jack’s mind at ease. He wanted to be able to check on Mark as well and it only bothered him slightly that the best he could do was give him a call or Skype.

 ** _Mark:_** _Thanks for the support man, I really appreciate it!_

If Mark had notice the smiley face emote he didn’t say anything, simply sending back an appreciative message to Jack. It made the warm feeling in his stomach settle and Jack smiled down at his phone.

 ** _Mark:_** _If you’re free, I was wondering if you wanted to chat for a bit on Discord._

Jack’s smile widened, and he moved to face his second monitor and clicked on the Discord symbol, the system opening up to reveal its icon spinning around as everything configured correctly.

**_Jack:_ ** _Yeah! I’m always down!_

He clicked on Mark’s username, grabbing his headphones and placing them back on his head just as he heard the little chime of the older man calling him. Jack answered immediately, eyes flicking down to the accept call button as he settled back in his chair. The sound over on Mark’s end sounded a bit muffled but it soon cleared, and Jack could hear the American clearing his throat before he spoke.

“I trust everything’s been good in your neck of the woods?” Mark’s voice was quiet, and Jack readjusted the sound before giving a response.

“Yup! Just teh same old same old, nothin’ as excitin’ as what yeh’ve been through”.

The thought slipped past Jack’s lips without a second thought, they normally teased one another to the point where if it had been anyone else calling Jack short, he would have punched them square in the face. But with Mark it was different, their banter often crossed lines that would ruin normal friendships, but theirs was something different entirely. However, this was something Jack didn’t exactly mean to bring up, especially since it had just happened recently. The other end was silent for a few tense moments until Jack could hear Mark start to laugh, the sound bubbling up and easing the discomfort that had momentarily settled in his Jack’s chest.

“I suppose so, comparatively speaking that is” Mark’s tone remained light and Jack ran a hand through his beard, an apology on the tip of his tongue when the chime of a phone went off on Mark’s side. The older man excused himself, the rustling sound of his headphones hitting against the surface of his desk bouncing in Jack’s ears as he heard Mark answer his phone in a loud voice. Jack in the meantime fiddled around on his computer, searching for a suitable picture to use for the next thumbnail of his video. He found a few potential photos saved to his desktop when he heard Mark’s laugh, a little closer to his headphones this time and Jack could hear the sigh of breath escaping the older man’s lips as he said his goodbyes to whomever he was talking to. He could hear the rustling of fabric against the headphones before he could hear Mark again, the older man sighing once more, and Jack could hear the fond way it left his lips. He was probably smiling and shaking his head in the way he did when something incredulous happened or when he’d been laughing for too long and needed to get back on track.

“Sorry about that,” the American began as he cleared his throat, “My mom’s just been buggin’ me about Korean lessons and how I’ve bailed the last couple times, ugh”. Jack shook his head, clicking his tongue is disapproval and wagging a finger at his monitor even though he knew Mark couldn’t see him.

“Shame on yeh, balin’ on yer mother like that,” Jack went back to his main monitor and clicked onto the Google Image search he had been doing, copying the links of a couple worthy images and pasting their links into Discord to see what Mark thought of them.

“I suppose it can’t be helped though,” he said as he clicked send and watched as they appeared in the text box above. “Have yeh told her? About teh break-in?” Jack stretched his arms up in the air, little pops quietly filling the dead space in the air as he flicked his wrists. He could hear a thoughtful hum come from Mark, the American having clearly clicked on the links Jack had provided him with and looking over the images in turn.

“I haven’t, no,” Mark began slowly as he concentrated on the images provided to him, the words eerily drawn out in a similar manner like they had in their last conversation. It was something Jack had instantly picked up, despite his growing hearing problem his doctor warned him about. The Irishman could still make out the differences in tone very well, his hearing not failing him in that department quite yet. He fidgeted in his chair, eyes moving away from his second monitor and back to his main one, as if looking away would make the slight discomfort fade away as well.

“I think the second one would suit you,” Mark answered in his usual manner that had Jack wondering if he was just being paranoid. “And no,” Mark began again as Jack clicked on the link to the second image to give it another once over before committing, “If I told her she’d never get off my back, she’s worried enough about me all the time you know?” The words came out in a rush towards the beginning but slowed towards the end, as if Mark wanted to say more but realized how what he had said could be taken the wrong way.

“I guess so,” Jack began carefully, swiveling back and forth in his chair, “But she’s still yer mom, she deserves to know what’s goin’ on with yeh”. He could hear Mark grumble underneath his breath, begrudgingly agreeing with the Irishman. Jack would have added more onto that but a chime from his own phone tore his attention away.

 _ **Penny:**_ _Hey! I have Friday and Saturday off next week, wanna grab dinner then? :)_

Jack smiled down at his phone, the same warmth he’d been feeling earlier flooding his entire body. It’d been sometime since his girlfriend had time off from work and wasn’t too tired to spend her evening with him. Her job often shifted her schedule around so every couple of weeks her starting and ending times varied drastically. Jack was perfectly fine with this though as his own schedule was equally as hectic.

**_Jack:_ ** _That sounds wonderful! It’ll be my treat! ;)_

He chuckled quietly to himself and he let out a sigh of happiness and set his phone aside, adjusting his headphones and absently wondering why Mark had been so quite up to this point. Jack took off his headphones and checked to make sure they didn’t need to be charged, he hadn’t heard an angry beeping, the noise indicating that his headphones were about to die. The Irishman shrugged when he saw that the light indicator on the side of his headphones was still green, not the usual orange that would have alerted him.

“Mark? Yeh there still?”, Jack called out to the older man tentatively, wondering if his internet was the culprit when he heard the American sigh from his end of the call.

“Yeah, got distracted…,” and then, “you laughed about something? Did you find a stupid meme that you’re not sharing with me?” Jack could hear the slight chastising way in which Mark said that, could practically see the snicker that must have been plastered on the older man’s face.

“No, yeh know I’d have sent it teh yeh like, yesterday anyway,” Jack snorted, the corners of his mouth turning up into a snicker of his own, “It was actually Penny, we’re havin’ dinner later this week”. Mark hummed in response and Jack could hear the creak of his chair as he presumed the man was searching for a comfortable way to sit.

“Isn’t she worried about how much time we spend together?”

Jack furrowed his brow, lips jutting out slightly at Mark’s comment. It didn’t sit right with him, for some reason. Normally whenever the American would bring something like this up, Jack could make out that he was teasing him. But the way Mark had said it this time had the Irishman wondering if he was being serious. Why would the American worry about such a thing? It was at Jack’s own discretion how he decided to split up his time with the people in his life. Yes, a good chunk of time was spent goofing around with Mark but, there were times where they would go weeks without talking to one another. So, if anything, Mark should have realized that they weren’t spending _nearly_ as much time together anymore.

“Why’d yeh say that?” Jack finally settled on as he realized that he and Mark had been sitting in silence as he had been silently contemplating.

“Because, Jack, you have something that I want”.

Jack made a face at that and at the way his stomach twisted into knots, an almost nervous kind of energy mixed with something else that he couldn’t quite put a name to. Faintly, Jack could feel the tingle of Anti’s energy poking out, swirling around his wrists. It almost felt like the virus was gripping them, holding onto them and leaning forward so he could stare at the monitor. It felt like he was curious about Mark and it struck Jack as odd. Anti had never shown an interest in Mark before, always turning the other way whenever Jack would spend hours talking with the older man. But now Jack could feel more of Anti’s energy starting to pool in the pit of his stomach, moving back and forth as if the virus was waiting to pounce on something. It was making it difficult to process the words Mark had said to him and Jack had to close his eyes for a brief moment before he spoke once more.

“Yeah, right,” he responded sarcastically, secretly wishing Mark was just being his usual stupid self and faking the seriousness that had coated his voice. Jack opened his eyes, the pool of energy still there but not as intense as before and started at his monitor. Mark didn’t answer right away, instead, Jack could make out a grunt and what sounded like the older man hissing through his teeth. It had the Irishman sitting straighter in his chair, mind racing as he figured Mark was in pain and needed to seek medical attention. He was about to open his mouth, phone in hand to call Tyler and Ethan if need be, when Mark’s voice stopped him.

“No need to get others involved, you’re all I need”.

The words sent a chill down Jack’s spine, they sounded like a mix between a growl and a snarl and they made Jack pause and slowly turn his attention back to his monitor. That voice…yes, it was Mark’s usual baritone, but it sounded like…like he was taking the time to choose his words, like how someone would take the time to careful wrap a present. It sounded slightly raspier than last time, making it sound even lower than what Jack associated with the older man.

Anti’s energy was flowing freely throughout Jack now, his interest causing the virus to pursue the body making it. Jack could hear his voice, whispering softly to him over and over, the sound bouncing off his head. The Irishman grunted, shaking his head and trying to compose himself, trying to put up the mental barriers he had taught himself to create whenever Anti wanted to be free without expressed permission.

Jack didn’t understand _why_. Why was Anti behaving like this? Why was he suddenly interested in Mark? Why was Mark’s voice different? And why was it having an effect on Anti?

“Oh, little mouse, it’d be much easier on you if you’d just move out of the way,” Mark spoke again in that weird almost clipped tone again and Jack felt Anti lash out at him, his energy slapping Jack in the face. The Irishman cried out, bringing a hand to his right eye as it began to sting viciously.

“Wha-wha-”

“Hush now, little mouse. Time to sleep.”

It felt like Jack was being ripped apart, his entire body burning as he felt Anti’s energy consume him. It took hold of his body and dragged him down into an inky dark abyss, the light from his conciseness steadily failing him as Anti’s laughter echoed in his mind.

Jack let out a small breath, closing his eyes before he felt his body go numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn't help myself :x


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh goodness, it feels like it's been so long! T.T
> 
> School and work have taken up the majority of my time and energy and I wasn't too happy with this chapter and I re-wrote it countless times.
> 
> Regardless, I'm happy I took the time to flesh this out and I hope you all enjoy it too :)

The buzzing in his skull slowly faded, the only voice he could hear was his own as it echoed inside his head. He took a breath in, air falling down his throat to fill his lungs and he slowly sat himself back in the chair he found himself sitting in. His hand fell from his face, a faint inky black streak running down the palm of his hand. He steadfastly ignored the wet sensation, not bothering to open his eyes just yet as he wiped the black substance onto the jeans he was wearing. The tips of his fingers twitched as the energy inside of him began to settle and he slowly clenched and unclenched his hands, moving each finger individually until he could feel the bones underneath obey him completely. A small breath of air left his lips and only then did his eyes flutter open, mismatched irises slowly moving towards the computer set up in front of him.

Anti sighed, moving his head back and forth until he heard a few pops, pressure releasing out of his body. It wasn’t very often that the virus mustered up enough gumption to push Jack’s conciseness aside entirely, so he could have control over their shared vessel. To be frank, it was simply because Anti had found it too taxing of a job to make it a regular occurrence. Now, that wasn’t to say the virus detested stretching his limbs, oh on the contrary, seeing how fucking around with Jack could only offer Anti so much entertainment at a time.

Most days the virus found himself to be satisfied with simply viewing the world through Jack’s mind, taking care every now and then when something particularly… _interesting_ happened, to keep out of reach of the Irishman’s ever curious mind. There was something to be said about Jack’s mental state, it was one of the strongest Anti had ever encountered, breaking him so Anti could bend his will had been too daunting of a task. So, rather than waste precious energy, the two had created a tentative truce, neither _really_ embracing the other, but it would do, for now.

What had made Anti actually put forth some effort into revealing himself in his entirety, had been a certain someone Jack fawned over. Just the sheer thought of the other man’s name running through his mind was enough to make Anti gag, Jack might be oblivious to it, but the Irishman had some things to work through with Mark. It was so painfully obvious to the virus that he _always_ hid himself away behind the mental barriers Jack would set up. That is, until today’s seemingly normal conversation. The voice coming out of the older man’s mouth wasn’t his own, it was something that sent a surge of electricity coursing through Anti’s body. It made the vast amount of energy within him spike drastically and it felt like he had taken every drug imaginable and was riding off a dangerous high.

“Yeh got me out, why yeh so shy now?” Anti’s lips curled up into a wicked grin, his eyes shining mischievously as the glow from the computer screen lit up his face.

There was a disgruntled hum from the other end before that deep voice spoke once more, “I wasn’t aware you’d become so… _comfortable_ ”. It was practically spat out, as if the speaker detested the mere concept of the word. It made Anti’s grin fall and he scowled at the computer screen, lips curling further up his teeth and eyes narrowing until they were tiny slits. Who did this person think they were? Talking to him in that _pompous_ tone of voice, as if Anti should know them and kiss the ground their fucking feet walked on. The virus’ scowl darkened at that, he didn’t suck up to anyone. Not to Jack and _certainly_ not to whoever the hell he was talking to.

“Anyhow, I didn’t come here to discuss your…lack of manners,” the voice spoke once more, and it made Anti want to rip his ears off, “I came here to make a proposition”.

Anti snorted at that, leaning back in Jack’s gaming chair with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I ain’t makin’ no deals with a twat like yeh,” Anti let out a small laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within his throat and slipping past his lips. He was already bored of this conversation, despite it only having just begun, and right now all Anti wanted was to lay back and annoy the piss out of Jack. Anti had no use for whatever he was going to be told, he didn’t have the energy to waste on fruitless endeavors or pathetic favors. He sat there with his arms folded across his chest for a few moments, the only sound he could hear was that of his own breathing and of the other person he was refusing to cooperate with.

“Your insolence will be your ruin, I have tasted something truly wonderful, something you will _never_ know”. The words were pitched lower, if that were even possible, and there was plenty of bite to them, a promise behind the words. A promise that, if Anti were to continue down the path he had started walking on, would be followed through. It was something that made Anti involuntarily shiver, an odd sort of heat that wasn’t his own running down his spine and he growled at the way the physical shell of his host reacted to the words. The way his skin crawled and the way it made his heart begin to race, it was as if Jack’s body had a mind of its own.

“I don’ need teh taste anythin’ yeh’ve had,” Anti spread out his arms and pressed his back further into Jack’s gaming chair, leaning back in it and casting his gaze down at the computers as he added, “I’ve got everythin’ right ‘ere”.

There was only the sound of another contemplative hum, but to Anti it still sounded arrogant and if there wasn’t going to be a point to this conversation anytime soon, then he was going to swiftly end this conversation.

Again, there was silence on the other end and Anti’s lips parted, about to taunt the man on the other end when a chuckle filled his ears. It started off soft, gradually becoming louder and it made Anti grit his teeth in annoyance. It sounded as if he’d told a particularly awful joke and he was receiving a pity laugh. It sent a rush of anger down Anti’s entire body and the energy inside of him flared to life, the tips of his fingers twitching in response.

“I suppose I should have known better,” the voice spoke finally, cutting off the laughter abruptly as if a record player had been bumped and the needle had been knocked off. The words were spoken slowly, each letter being enunciated carefully, and it only served to feed into Anti’s growing anger.

“You’ve become that human’s… _pet_ , shame really…” the voice trailed off airily, allowing the words to sink in fully. Anti grit his teeth, his energy spiking and he growled menacingly at mention of being called Jack’s “pet”.

“Call me when you’re ready to play nice, pet”.

The call ended at that, leaving Anti in silence once more, the only other sound was his labored breathing as he tried to rake in his anger. Who was this person to say such a thing to Anti? They must’ve had a death wish and should consider themselves lucky considering Anti was an ocean away from America.

The virus took in small, measured breaths, slowly reaching up to take Jack’s headphones off from his head. He held them in his hand for a moment or two before whirling around in Jack’s gaming chair. The cord keeping Jack’s headphones attached to the computer’s tower snapped, the wires underneath the rubber covering reaching out like fingers on hand. The headphones crashed against the stupid fucking white board Jack insisted on having up in the room and they mad a loud _bang_ against the cheap plastic, falling limply to the floor. It did little to satisfy the anger boiling underneath Anti’s skin, his energy coiling tighter and tighter like it was an Anaconda circling around its prey, ready to crush the very life from its prey.

He needed something _more_ , he needed to feel something bend and snap beneath his will. Anti needed to assert himself over something frail and pathetic, prove to himself once more that he was a force to be reckoned with. The energy he carried burst to life, flowing around his arms and legs as if they were tendrils of a massive sea creature that only surfaced to capture prey that had strayed too far from the shallows. Anti breathed heavily, opening himself up to the energy coursing around him, drinking it in like a human would with alcohol. Anti pushed himself up from Jack’s chair, bringing a hand up to watch as the inky black tendrils of his power curled around his forearm, then wrists, before carefully carding itself around each digit of his hand. Anti closed his fist, the energy flaring to life and engulfing his hand and the virus grinned maliciously. He felt something wet fall from his eye, knew that it must be dripping from the sudden surge of energy flowing throughout him, but he couldn’t have cared less.

Carefully, he reached out to brush his mind against Jack’s subconscious, running his mind along an imaginary wall until he found a break in it. There he found the Irishman, neatly tied up in the strings of Anti’s stronger will, curled up into a small ball with his eyes closed and thoughts drifting lazily almost as if he were daydreaming. Anti pulled back, his eyes shining brightly as he straightened himself out, rolling his neck in the process as he worked out the kinks. Tonight, he was going to have some fun. Tonight, he was going to indulge himself and find a pretty little face.

Tonight, was _his_ night, and he was going to prove how much of a pet he really was.

-.-

Night had fallen, crowds of people meandering out underneath the bright stars and moon that was high in the sky. They walked past him without another thought, chatting away about their pathetic human lives and trivial happenings. Anti made his way down the streets of Brighton, hands stuffed into a pair of black skinny jeans with his hair combed back properly instead of falling awkwardly to one side as it had been earlier.

He’d thrown off Jack’s marbled black t-shirt and thrown on one of the Irishman’s clean pressed shirts, a gray one with a collar that was particularly higher than any other the man owned. Anti had all but the top two buttons closed, favoring to keep them undone and showing off a bit of skin. If he was to have some fun, he didn’t want his unsuspecting target to feel like they were being left out. He wanted them to have at least _some_ fun before he ultimately had his way with them.

Jack’s memories lead him to one of the man’s favorite bars, one that wouldn’t have too much traffic this time of night which suited Anti just fine, he didn’t need others recognizing him as the exuberant Irishman at the moment. Anti rounded the corner to the place, a few customers leaning against the establishment smoking, the smell of nicotine filling the air as the virus made his way past them. The place was dimly lit, just enough lighting so one could make out the list of cocktails the bar made while still keeping the mood of the room just right.

There were a few tables in Anti’s immediate line of sight, their chairs occupied by couples out enjoying themselves, their voices ringing out loudly to be heard above the noise of the bar’s other patrons. Anti stepped down into the main part of the bar, more tables and customers greeting him. A few tables were lined up against a worn brick wall, the words of something clearly painted on them but in the dim lighting, it was hard for the virus to make out what they were. He made his way past a few more patrons talking animatedly with one another, walking past a tall bookshelf that was crammed with hundreds of well-worn books before making his way up to order himself a drink.

The shelf behind the bar was neatly lined with assorted alcohols, everything from vodka to whisky was laid out in front of Anti. The service area was distinguished from the rest of the bar by the wood flooring that curved around the front of the counter and wrapped around to the bar stools that were screwed into the wood. The entire establishment gave off the feel of a 1920’s bar and it normally would’ve amused Anti in how humans clung to relics of the past, but he was in no mood for throwing humanity a bone, he was there for a specific reason and it wasn’t to admire the stupid craftsmen ship humans had to offer. He ordered himself a Gin and Tonic from the barkeep who smiled pleasantly enough at him despite Anti knowing he had a scowl spread across his face. The virus threw a handful of bills at the barkeep, muttering for them to keep the change, and made his way to a secluded spot near the tall bookshelf.

Anti ignored the stares he received from other patrons as he pulled out the chair to his chosen spot and sat down. He faced out towards the bar, the best way to survey the room and watch all of the bar’s customers come and go, as well as those who decided to sit up close to the serving counter. He brought his chilled glass up to his lips, taking a small sip of his drink before setting it back down. Anti would have to be patient, as much as it was killing him inside to even consider the word and acknowledge its implications. But the virus had made it this far without tearing someone to shreds, so, he supposed he had that going for him at least.

The virus could make out the sounds of smooth jazz playing from the speakers situated behind him and throughout the bar, though it was hard even for _his_ ears to pick up the music over the din of people talking and laughing. He watched as human after human came and left the bar, each one more dull and boring than the one before. There had been a couple of sweet blonde-haired women who’d caught his interest, but they’d been quickly snatched up by the men who’d lingered at the bar. Anti had watched the way their eyes had roamed over their petite frames, hands lingering far too long on the curve of their hips and leaning in far too close, but it appealed to the women and so Anti had frustratingly let go.

It wasn’t until the virus was halfway through his second drink that he finally found what he was looking for.

She came into the bar slowly, looking around the room with one foot still outside, as if she were unsure in her choice and wanted the opportunity to turn around and leave without making a fool of herself. She had short brunette hair that framed her face beautifully, bangs cut incredibly close to her face so Anti could catch the bright emerald green of her eyes. The woman was dressed in a short black dress that had an impressively deep V-neck design, the curves of her breasts peeking out at the sides. The sound of her knee-high boots reached Anti’s ears and the virus shifted in his seat, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as he licked his lips. He watched as she made her way over to the barkeep, instantly laughing and making some sort of remark Anti didn’t care to strain his ears for. The barkeep took her order down and ushered her to take a seat up at the bar and Anti took this has his chance to get closer.

The virus grabbed what remained of his drink, slowly standing from his seat so as not to draw too much attention to himself, and gradually moved towards the front. He made sure to keep his eyes moving casually across the sea of people, as if he were searching for someone he’d thought he had recognized.

He made his way up to the bar, choosing an empty seat a couple of chairs down from the woman, making a point to ignore her. In his peripherals he could see her take a quick look his way, eyes moving up and down before she was blocked from his line of sight, a loud drunken man taking the empty seat directly next to her.

“What’s a beautiful woman such as yourself doing sitting here all alone, huh?” He leaned onto the bar, sitting up straight so he could block Anti’s view of the woman. Anti turned his nose up at the man, he reeked of alcohol and strong cologne. He was wearing an obnoxiously bright pink polo with black trousers and freshly polished shoes, the entire outfit screamed douchbag to Anti. The virus leaned further in his seat, placing both of his elbows onto the counter and taking a sip of his drink, taking a peek at the brown-haired woman and her unfortunate suiter. She seemed to be holding her own, taking in his playful banter and easily evading any further questions he had for her, it made the swirl of energy inside of Anti perk upright, surging forward throughout his borrowed body and making his limbs move on their own accord.

The virus tilted his glass once more, downing the rest of his drink before setting it down with a loud clank against the Plexiglas counter. The drunken man was distracted momentarily by the noise, looking over his shoulder and pinning Anti with an annoyed gaze.

“Why don’ yeh jus’ take teh hint, bub,” Anti began in a mocking tone, a smirk spreading across his face as he cast a careless gaze towards the man sitting next to him. His comment didn’t seem to sit well with the older gentlemen though, as the man swiveled around in his seat to fully pin his eyes on Ant.

“I could break you in half, skinny,” the older man gave Anti a smirk of his own, bringing up a hand and flexing it. The veins in the drunken man’s arm protruded over the muscle, as if there were snakes wrapping themselves around the well-toned flesh. Anti clicked his tongue in a disapproving way, pushing himself up from his seat and moving closer to the man.

“I’d like teh see yeh try,” Anti murmured underneath his breath as he closed the distance between them, pressing his left hand onto the Plexiglass while cocking his hip to one side. The older man huffed in annoyance, clearly ready to settle this dispute with his fists when Anti grinned wickedly, his eyes flashing brightly before he brought his left hand up and placed it onto the man’s chest. Anti could feel his right eye begin to sting a bit as his power came forth at his command, tracing around his forearm and around his wrist before running down his fingers and into the man’s body. The drunken man grunted, moving his body backwards as he tried to put space between him and Anti, but failed. This close, Anti could smell the alcohol even more as if wafted off of the older man’s breath as he breathed heavily into his face. Anti trailed his eyes up the man’s chest to look him straight in the eye, the drunkard’s eyes slightly hazy as he tried to focus on what was happening to him.

“Why don’ yeh take a hike,” Anti snarled, a small high-pitched giggle escaping the corners of his mouth as he let a trickle of his energy slip past the tips of his fingers and sink his claws into the man before him. He watched gleefully as the drunkard’s eyes widened, fear falling off of him in delicious waves that made Anti swoon with how strongly they hit him. The virus could feel a warm wetness fall from his right eye and he leaned in closer, gazing into the drunk man’s eyes as his own leaked an inky black mess. He wasn’t what Anti was after though, and the virus pursed his lips as he brought hand up to trail up and down the older man’s arms. The muscle underneath his fingertips twitched and Anti grinned crookedly, his eyes glazing over slightly as he let himself sink further into the fear rolling off the older man.

“Run along now,” Anti whispered as he leaned up to the older man’s ear, letting his breath wash over the shell of the other’s ear and pulling back like a giddy school girl when the man let out a small whimper.

All at once, the sounds of the bar came rushing back to Anti and the virus slowly sat back, beckoning his energy back with the flick of his wrist. The drunken man’s face looked pale around the edges, as if he’d just seen a ghost and Anti fixed him with haughty stare. The drunken man blinked a few times, his mouth opening and closing as if he had more to say but quickly turned his head away, grabbing his drink and rising from his seat.

To anyone looking in from the outside it seemed as though Anti had simply whispered a decent threat to the man, what with how pale he had become suddenly, and how he slowly stood from his seat and slunk into one of the darker corners of the bar.

Anti watched him leave, the corners of his lips turned up into a poorly concealed, self-satisfied smirk. He turned back to grab his empty glass, setting his eyes on the brunette woman who was staring at him incredulously. Anti tipped his glass towards her, schooling the giddy high he was riding in order to properly introduce himself to her. He cleared his throat and she raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading across her plump lips and she leaned into the bar counter, her own drink lazily held between her long fingers.

“Hello there,” Anti began as he leaned towards her, so his voice could be heard, “name’s Jack”.

She smiled brilliantly, placing her hand out for Anti to take and the virus knew it wasn’t necessary, but he brought the soft flesh up to his lips and kissed it. Her scent was intoxicating, bright and bubbly and yet somehow subdued, and it took every inch of will power Anti had left to stop himself from digging his nails into her hand and dragging her away right then and there.

Tonight, was defiantly looking up for him.

-.-

He didn’t know how long he’d been running, or if whatever was chasing him was still right behind him, but something deep inside his gut told Chase Brody that he had to keep moving. Chase tripped over his own two feet, stumbling but quickly regaining his footing and using his momentum to take two large steps forward. His entire head felt like it was about to spilt apart, but he kept at it, continuing to run through the darkness.

Why was he so afraid? Where was everyone? Had they been swallowed up by the darkness that was surrounding him? Or was it something far worse?

“Where are you? Hello!? _Anyone?!_ ”, Chase grit his teeth, forcing down the rising panic that threatened to take hold and coil around his throat. He dared to look over his shoulder, wondering if he was all alone and the thought terrified him. That familiar fear came rushing up, his heart beating faster and the hurried pace at which Chase had been running, faltered. He could fell the tears begin to form and his vision blurring, and he forcefully turned his head away from staring behind him to face forward once more. But as he did he felt his right foot catch on something, and before Chase could correct his momentum, he found himself falling, that all-consuming fear moving through his veins to constrict around his rapid heartbeat.

Chase landed hard on his knees, his upper body twisting to the side on instinct so as to not have his arms break his fall. The air was knocked from his lungs and for a few moments he lay there, trying to collect the thoughts swarming through his head as his body urged him to get up and continue moving. Chase blinked a few times, taking inventory of what hurt where, his eyes roaming up to see that his trusty snapback had fallen off during his tumble. Gathering himself up, he moved to snatch it from the floor, dusting it off before he turned around to see what he had fallen over.

It was hard for his eyes to see but laying on the floor in front of him was a figure in white, a blue cap covering their head. Chase couldn’t see their face, as their back was towards him, but he didn’t need to see those familiar steely blue eyes to know who it was that was laying before him. He knelt back down onto the ground, carefully bringing up his hands to place them on the body of the Good Doctor, applying pressure and moving his body back and forth.

“Doc, c’mon Doc, ya gotta wake up,” Chase added more pressure onto the Good Doctor’s body, shaking the man’s smaller frame a little harder, trying desperately to rouse him from whatever slumber he was under. It took a couple more tries but finally he heard a small groan slip past the Good Doctor’s lips, the muscles of his shoulders moving underneath Chase’s palms and he moved back to allow space for his friend to rise.

Schneeplestein held his head in his hands, groaning in pain as he looked around, his back still facing Chase, until he slowly turned around. His eyes were glassy when they met Chase’s, as if the Good Doctor wasn’t quite aware of who it was he was staring at. It took a few more moments before recognition began to resurface, the Good Doctor’s eyes become brighter and he took in a sharp breath, eyes growing wide.

“ _My God_ , _Chase!_ ” Schneep brought his hands up, beckoning Chase to come closer so he could wrap his arms around the younger man. Chase wasted no time in moving towards the Good Doctor, tightly wrapping his own arms around his friend, tucking in his chin into the crook of space between his shoulder blades and neck. He breathed in the scent of clean soap and latex, the anxiety from earlier melting away as he took in the familiar aroma.

“I’m so glad I found ya Doc,” Chase began in a small voice when they finally parted, a small smile gracing his lips, “I thought I was the only one”. He clenched his hands into fists as he felt the small beginnings of a tremor run up his arms and he dug his nails into the palms of his hands to keep the smile from falling off his face.

Schneep leveled him with a knowing gaze, his steely blue eyes flicking back and forth across his face. It was the first time in a long while that Chase had really been able to study the Good Doctor’s face. There were dark bags underneath his eyes, like he hadn’t gotten sleep in days or even weeks for that matter. His skin looked even paler than he remembered, almost like it had a grayish tint to it if Chase squinted his eyes hard enough. The back of Schneep’s hands were littered with scars, both old and new alike with the newer ones standing out as bright as day on the Good Doctor’s pale skin.

“Your hands look pretty beat up Doc, what happened?” Chase brought up a hand to take Schneep’s hands into his own, but the Good Doctor ignored his silent request, batting the younger man’s hands away.

“You needn’t worry about me,” Schneep began, his accent thick and slightly slurring around the words he spoke. The sharp way he had been looking at Chase with softened and Schneep shook his head.

“There are more important matters for you to be concerned about,” he started as he tried to pry himself up off of the ground he was laying on. He only got as far as kneeling on his right leg before crumpling back down in a grunt of pain. Chase was back at his side in a heartbeat, his hands hovering as he tried to figure out where to place them without causing Schneep any more pain.

“Easy Doc, your leg might be broken”. Chase watched as Schneep sat back down with his legs spread out before him, the younger man’s hands immediately reaching out to pull back the pant leg of the older man’s scrubs, hoping the damage wasn’t too severe when he let out a gasp of his own. The veins in Schneep’s legs were black and angry looking, standing out against the Good Doctor’s pale flesh. The skin in and around the darkened veins looked blotchy and red, almost as if Schneep had been buried underneath snow for too long and frostbite had set in.

“ _Jesus!_ ”, Chase brought his arms up in front of his face like he was trying to create a barrier between himself and the state of decay that was happening to Schneep’s leg. The Good Doctor scowled up at Chase, pressing a hand to his chest and shoving at him, causing Chase to fall back down onto his ass and continue to stare at him with shock and bewilderment in his eyes. His mouth was parted open slightly, like he wanted to reprimand Chase when he grunted in pain again.

Schneep’s back straightened, his mouth forming into a thin line and before Chase could ask what was wrong, a wave of dread washed over him. Chase clenched his jaw tightly, his teeth _clacking_ together loudly and sending a sharp pain down his lower jaw and towards his ears. The dread crept further down his body, making Chase clench his hands into fists and shiver violently. He heard a faint whispering in his ears, traveling up and working its way further into his head, growing steadily louder and he brought both hands up to cover his ears, trying to stamp out the noise.

He could see the beads of sweat rolling down Schneep’s forehead, could see the concern and uncertainty painted clearly across his face, his lips moving but the sound coming from them was muffled. His vision began to blur around the edges, his head beginning to feel heavy and tilt to one side. The growing sensation of dread felt like it was seeping into his bones and his entire body began to ache and he doubled over in pain, his snapback falling from his head to land onto the ground.

Chase closed his eyes, vague images flashing behind his eyelids. Bright white lights in a cold room with tall dark figures watching, tiny figures pirouetting around him with their limbs spread wide, and the barrel of a gun pressed painfully against his head. He could feel the cool metal in his hands, a heavy weight that seemed to mimic the way his entire body felt. The colors around him became overly saturated, as if someone was adding a filter over his eyes. Chase could hear the safety being pulled back, could fell his own fingers moving to press lightly against the trigger. Chase could feel the muscles in his arm try to pull away but the noise inside his head grew louder the more he tried to stop. The sound of the gun discharging hit Chase with a harsh burst of energy and he flung his eyes open, wrenching his hands from his ears as he instinctively pushed his body away from what was hurting him, hands clawing at the air ready to fight if needed.

“Chase, stop this! It’s me!”

Slowly, the world came back into focus, the edges of his vision becoming clear once again, the only remnant of his odd out of body experience was the faint laughter his ears could pick up. He shivered violently once more, teeth clacking against one another before he looked up at Schneep. The Good Doctor’s eyebrows were drawn together, his steely blue eyes dark in contemplation as he considered Chase for a moment before moving away to give the younger man some breathing room.

“It’s getting worse,” Schneep began slowly, letting out a small breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, eyes darting around as if he were expecting something, or someone, to manifest out of thin air and attack them. The Good Doctor brought his attention back down to Chase, the younger man’s eyes wide and bright, tears forming on the outer corners and threatening to spill down his cheeks.

“Wha-what…was that…?”, Chase blinked hard a couple of times, forcing himself to take in deep breaths to calm his racing heartbeat and to force down the lump that had formed in his throat. Chase brought a hand up to place over his chest, his heart beating roughly against his ribcage and permeating through his clothing. It made Chase make a disgusted face at the sensation and he pulled his hand away, freezing when he spotted the dark lines running through it.

“I’m afraid it couldn’t be helped,” Schneep made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat, following Chase’s eyes to take in the state of his hand.

“It’s… _him_ …”, Schneep stated plainly, his voice soft and accent almost nonexistent as the two sat in silence, Chase watching as the Good Doctor took his hand and ran his fingers up and down the prominent veins. Schneep’s touch was light as the tips of fingers gently followed Chase’s darkened veins. The younger man didn’t have time to revel in the feeling of finally seeing his closest friend again because as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Schneep’s fingers pressed harshly against the back of his hand.

“ _Fuck_ ”, Chase cried out in pain, instinctively jerking his arm backwards and the Good Doctor loosened his grip on the younger man’s hand, his brows drawn into a look of deep concentration.

“What the hell was _that_ for?” Chase asked angrily, gritting his teeth pressing his hand close to his chest but wincing in pain as he did so. The younger man exhaled nosily, staring down at his hand and shaking it a few times, the pain subsiding slowly and leaving behind a slight tingling sensation, as if he’d fallen asleep on it.

“You should be more concerned with finding Jack,” Schneep ignored Chase’s question, waving his hand around in a vague sort of gesture, wincing as he tried to move his right leg closer towards his body. “If Anti’s playing with you now, then you _need_ to find Jack”.

“But I don’t…why _now_?”, Chase asked in exasperation, his mind suddenly swarming with countless possibilities as to why Anti would be showing his true colors _now_ of all times. The virus had been cohabiting with the others for some time now, almost twiddling his thumbs in boredom as he flitted from ego to ego, silently watching from the background with an almost dead expression clouding his eyes, as if he’d somehow seen it all before. Chase had felt the virus seep into his own subconscious before, that same feeling of dread and hopelessness filling him as it had done so only minutes ago. It wasn’t anything new to Chase and yet…something felt _off_ …

“Never mind the why,” Schneep started as he scooted closer to Chase, reaching out for the younger man’s hands and taking hold of them once more, “What’s more important is finding Jack”. Chase’s head snapped up at the name of his good friend, the man who had always listened to his drunken words as he cried over the loss of his old life and home. If Anti truly was planning something, then it made logical sense that the virus would go after Jack, the man after all was the one thing they all shared a connection with.

“You need to be the one to find him, Chase.” At the sound of his name, Chase’s thoughts flew out the window, a heavy weight sinking down into his stomach. He blinked stupidly at the Good Doctor, his lips parted with the words he wanted to say on the tip of his tongue, but the only sound that escaped was a pathetic whimper.

“What _you_ felt was just a taste of what Anti has to offer,” Schneep brought his left hand up to place on Chase’s shoulder, squeezing gently and the younger man brought up a hand of his own, gripping the sleeve of the Good Doctor’s lab coat as if he were going to collapse and fall to his death at any moment. Chase’s cheeks burned in embarrassment at his actions and he couldn’t quite meet the sympathetic gaze he _knew_ was plastered on Schneep’s face.

“I…I just found ya Doc…,” Chase began quietly, still unwilling to look at the Good Doctor in the eyes, “I can’t just up and leave…” The words left a sour taste on Chase’s tongue, brief images of hugging his children as he stepped out the door running through his head as he pictured his wife’s disapproving gaze burning holes into his skin.

“Something’s… _different_ …this time around Chase, you can’t afford to have me slowing you down”. Chase brought his eyes up to face the Good Doctor, his eyebrows knitted together in a sort of solemn acknowledgement at the same time Schneep grimaced in pain as he shifted his injured leg.

“Different… is one way to put it, yeah,” Chase started slowly, eyes trailing down to stare at Schneep’s leg again. The Good Doctor’s scrubs had covered up the inky black mess that was his leg and he felt a sharp pain travel up his wrist and towards his shoulder. He didn’t know if this was some sort of new ability Anti had acquired during the truce he and Jack had drafted or, if the virus had always been capable of this and had only decided to put it into practice now.

“He prays on our biggest fears Chase, and I fear our dear friend is in grave danger”. Schneep’s words brought Chase back to the present and the younger man worried the inside of his lip, nodding his head slowly.

“Earlier I…I felt like _something_ or I guess… _someone_ was following me…it was _him_ , wasn’t it?”

Schneep wordlessly nodded his head, his eyes dark with concern and fear.

“How do you expect me to do _any_ kind of good then?”, Chase raised an eyebrow at the Good Doctor, a small hint of panic on the edge of his voice as he remembered what it felt like to have been running for ages in an endless tunnel of darkness. He didn’t want to have to go through something like that on his own again, he _hated_ being alone, hated not being able to have someone at his side that he could converse with.

“Because,” Schneep began in a quiet voice as he squeezed the younger man’s hands, breaking Chase out of his thoughts, “You are my closest friend, and I have every reason to believe in you”.

Chase made a face at that but couldn’t help the small, sad smile that spread across his features when he locked eyes with Schneep. He could the spark of life in the older man’s otherwise tired gaze, a small glimmer of hope that stirred something deep within Chase and he shivered, steeling himself for whatever he was about to agree to. He was always one to help others, even if their chances of success seemed slim. Chase wasn’t sure but, he had this unwavering bond with Schneep, one that went as far back as he could remember, and the younger man would do _anything_ to make sure the ones he loved were taken care of and safe…

“How do I find Jack?”, Chase let out a nervous breath of air, his arms tingling and shaking slightly in Schneep’s confident grasp though, it didn’t appear to bother the Good Doctor.

“The same way you stumbled upon me,” Schneep said with a small smile of his own, “You need to manifest it”.

Again, Chase made a face at that, scrunching up his nose, “How do I do _that_?”. Chase honestly thought that he’d just been crazy lucky to have even _found_ Schneep, he wasn’t too sure if he could… _manifest_ Jack out of thin air. He’d been running through that darkness, the dread of impending doom hot on his heels, for what had felt like _hours_ to him. Even if he had somehow managed to stumble upon Schneep by manifesting him, Chase wasn’t sure if he could replicate it a second time.

“Just close your eyes and focus,” Schneep’s voice was urgent, his eyes shining brightly, and Chase wasn’t sure what terrified him more in that moment. The fact that the Good Doctor appeared to speak so casually about this—as if he’d done it before—, or the fact that he was about to be sent straight to the lion’s den and be on his own once more. The thought alone was enough to send Chase’s mind spiraling down into a dark hole, the walls closing in around him and chocking out any sort of hope he had of escaping the prison he found himself in. The younger man clamped his mouth down on the rising panic he felt crawling up his throat, the anxious churning of his stomach coming to a screeching halt as he tried to swallow down around the fear he felt. He had agreed to do this and the longer he and Schneep sat together talking, the more pain he felt traveling up his entire arm. If he managed to _find_ where Jack was, there wasn’t any guarantee that Anti would just leave the man unguarded. Chase _needed_ to be ready.

“I need you to concentrate and feel for Jack, to reach out for his emotions,” Schneep began as he closed his eyes and Chase mimicked him, slowly closing his eyes and taking a few steadying breaths to ground himself.

“Remember what if feels like to be connected to Jack, what it feels when you’ve talked with him,” Schneep’s voice was quiet and Chase cracked an eye open to see that the older man’s eyes were still closed, his face the very picture of concentration and Chase had to stop himself from grimacing as he let out a loud breath of air and closed his eyes once more.

It’d been some time since he had talked with Jack, the last thing he clearly remembered was making some stupid skit with the man before everything had gone dark and he had been reunited with Schneep and the others. He cleared his throat and tried to remember the way Jack always smiled at him whenever Chase made a stupid joke or talked about his family, even if it’d been the _hundredth_ time bringing up his kids or his wife. It was _the way_ Jack would look at him, the way his eyes would light up and the way he never tore his gaze away from him, like Chase was the only person in the room despite them always going out eating or drinking in crowded places. It was this sort of look that always made Chase happy and it was something he never got tired of, he’d chase after that look day in and day out from the other man. If only to feel like his presence was wanted for a few brief moments.

Faintly, he could begin to feel something akin to that warmth, like a small spark a light that was trying to break its way through the darkness, reaching out to guide him and Chase turned his mind towards it.

“Yes, that’s it Chase, follow him, let him guide you,” it felt like Schneep’s voice was far away now, like they were in a room full of people and Chase was having a hard time listening to him because he had become distracted as he was now listening to someone else’s conversation. Chase pushed his mind forward, mentally reaching out for that simmering light as it led him further and further into the darkness. Chase stretched himself further, reaching as far as his mind would let him until he closed in on that light, enveloping it with his own mind and he let himself bask in the warmth. It spread through his body lazily, chasing away the fear he’d felt just moments ago, soft whispers floating through his mind before it was roughly yanked away from him and Chase was once more surrounded by dread and darkness.

His eyes flew open as he gasped, his hand holding only air and he looked around wildly, the Good Doctor nowhere to be found. The panic of being on his own began to creep up as he brought himself into a standing position and turned around, eyes still searching for either Schneep or Jack, when they fell upon a wooden door just a few feet from him. A strange itch started at the base of his neck, something telling Chase to move towards the door despite everything in his body telling him the contrary, and he took a couple of tentative steps forward.

It was just a simple wooden door, and this close Chase could make out the intricate patterns of the dark wood. The silver handle shone brightly, as if there were a light on overhead that was shining down onto it. Chase brought his hand up, transfixed by how bright the handle looked in his otherwise dismal surroundings and made the motion to open the door. It creaked softly when Chase opened it fully and he took a couple of steps over the threshold. A bright orangey red light assaulted his eyes and he had to squint and bring a hand up to shield his eyes from how bright everything had become over the span of mere seconds. The odd coloring in his new surroundings seemed to be pulsating faintly, as if it was alive and it surprisingly put Chase at ease. It was like looking at a lava lamp and watching the contents inside drift up and down lazily, it was truly mesmerizing. So mesmerizing that Chase failed to notice a small figure step towards him, only noticing it when a piercing cry filled the air, the noise stabbing Chase in the chest like a knife to the heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've developed this soft spot for Chase and I wish I could give him a hug :')


	4. Chapter 4

He fell to his knees, a loud ringing reverberating through his head and Chase grunted in pain as he looked up at the short dark figure making the loud crying sound. Its entire body was pitch black, nothing but bright yellow holes where its eyes _should_ have been, looked back at him pitifully. Even though the figure lacked any other facial features, from just the sound alone, Chase knew it was crying out in pain.

The cries soon quieted down, the small figure slumping forward almost as if someone had placed a heavy weight onto their back, and they were crumpling underneath the burden. Chase took a few gasping breaths, the ringing still loud in his ears as he tried to stand back up. He swayed back and forth, his body immediately leaning off to the right, but he spread out his arms to try and regain his balance. The ringing began to fade, his balance returning, and he turned his attention to look back at the dark figure before him but found that it had vanished.

Chase straightened instantly, his eyesight swimming as a headache bloomed from the center of his forehead and wrapped around his skull. When the pounding in his head began to subside and the room became still once more, Chase took in his new surroundings. The room he was currently in seemed to branch off to the right, and something was telling Chase that if he went towards it, he would find what he was looking for.

Moving forward, Chase slowly walked towards the dark opening, placing a hand against the wall of the red and orange room before fully immersing himself into darkness once more. Chase could make out a small light at the end, and he trained his eyes on it, focused on it and tried to put his mind at ease.

_This is going to be over soon, this is going to be over soon._

He kept thinking those words over and over again, repeating them like a mantra, praying to whatever God that was out there in the hopes that he would make it out of this alive. Chase pressed his hand onto the darkened wall beside him, grounding himself as he prepared for whatever could be waiting for him.

There was a small speck of light at the end of the hallway and Chase went after it like a child who had gotten separated from their parents at the grocery store and had caught a glimpse of them, running towards them in a desperate manner in order to feel safe once more. The light grew brighter the further Chase walked down the hallway, making him squint from the sheer intensity of it. He stopped just a few steps from the light, allowing his eyes to adjust for a few moments, suddenly hesitant and unsure if this was where he was meant to find Jack.

The thought of Jack left his mind as soon as he had thought of it, his ears picking up the sounds of tiny laughter and Chase’s eyes went wide when he recognized it as his children. The uncertainty faded just as quickly as the thought of Jack did, and Chase walked those last few steps forward, calling out the names of his children. The light was more intense than he had given it credit and Chase had to bring up a hand to shield his eyes from how bright everything around him went before everything gradually dimmed.

When he was finally able to bring down his hand, Chase was greeted with the now familiar red and orange glow of the room he had previously been in. It was almost completely identical and for a brief moment Chase wondered if he had gone in some weird fucking circle, but the thought never gained solid traction as he instantly became distracted once more.

Standing in front of him was a small child wearing a beautiful blue sundress that had hundreds of tiny white dots all over. Her pale brown hair was long and tied up neatly into two prefect little pigtails, so Chase could get a good look at those big, round blue eyes that stared up at him innocently. In her arms was a small bundle of blankets, a tiny tuft of dark brown hair peeking out from the bunched-up blankets, the tiny body stirring and making small noises of content before settling back down.

Chase was at a loss for words, his mind was racing with a million thoughts that were competing for his attention that all that came out of his mouth was a chocked sob. He walked a few more steps into the room, never taking his eyes off from the two children standing in front of him before slowly stooping down, the full intent behind the action was to scoop them both into his arms, but his knees gave out and he fell to the floor in a crumpled mess. He brought his arms around the small child, hugging her tight to his chest and breathing in the familiar scent of bubble gum and grape soda and Chase couldn’t believe how he had almost nearly forgotten what his own daughter smelled like.

Tears fell from Chase’s eyes without any warning and his entire body shook from the large, gulping breaths he took as he tried to form a coherent sentence. He could feel his heart racing a thousand miles a minute against the body of his daughter and despite how solid she felt in his arms, Chase couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all some sort of cruel joke being played on him.

Some sort of twisted dream his mind had put together in order to ease away the darkness that had settled deep in his heart. Chase opened his mouth, trying to form the words he wanted to say, but only a loud cry fell from his lips and more tears fell from his face. He took in a few shuddering breaths, pushing his face into the hair on the top of his daughter’s head, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat and quiet his loud cries.

“Don’t be sad daddy,” his daughter’s voice cut through the sound of his sobs and Chase took in a few deep breaths, face still pressed against the hair of her head as he pressed kisses onto her scalp.

“D-daddy isn’t sad, sweetheart,” Chase shakily began, shaking still from the sobs that slipped past his lips. He brought a hand up to his face as he pushed away slightly from his daughter, wiping away the tears and snot onto his hand and cleaning it off on his shirt. His lower lip quivered as he gazed down at his daughter, her eyes flicking back and forth as he stared back up at him.

“We-we’re gonna be together again, promise”. Chase smiled brightly, more tears spilling from the corners of his eyes as he brought his hand down from his shirt to grasp her tiny fingers in his own. He ran a thumb over her hand, basking in the feeling of her soft skin against the stark contrast of the rough skin that scared his hands. Too many times his hands had broken fragile items, smashed into immovable walls, and now, with the weight of such an innocent hand in his own, Chase no longer wanted to cause harm but protect the ones he loved with all his might.

His daughter smiled warmly up at him, her eyes shining impossibly brighter and her chubby cheeks puffing out in happiness. Chase let out a small laugh as his own happiness spilled over and chased away the grief he had been feeling, filling instead with a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. No one but his children could make him feel this way, not even Jack had elicited such feelings within him though the man had tried.

The thought of Jack momentarily snapped Chase out of the warmth his body had been slowly encasing itself in and he felt himself shiver at the thought of his friend still being lost somewhere within his own mind. He looked back down at his daughter, unwilling to untangle himself from her now that he’d been truly reunited with her, but Schneep’s urgent face and hurried words floated through his head and Chase bit the inside of his cheek, he needed to make a choice and he didn’t like the options laid out before him.

Chase’s grip on his daughter’s hand tightened and he brought it up to her line of sight, watching intently as her small smile quickly slipped from her face, her eyes filled with concern and worry, and it caused Chase’s stomach to churn viciously. He bent his head down and kissed the top of her hand, flicking his eyes up to look his daughter in the eyes as he spoke, “Daddy needs to find a good friend of his, and I need a brave girl like you to wait here for me”.

He watched as his daughter pouted, her eyebrows drawing down in disappointment as she left out a small huff of breath through her nose.

“But you just _got_ here,” she began quietly and bowed her head down, obscuring her line of sight from Chase and he sighed as he brought her in close for another hug.

“I know baby girl, I know, but daddy needs to save his friend”. Chase pressed his face into his daughter’s hair, breathing in deeply and still silently praying that this wasn’t some dream and that when he found Jack, his daughter would still be waiting for him.

“I don’t want you to go daddy,” his daughter’s voice was slightly muffled against Chase’s shoulder and he slowly released her from his grasp, bringing a hand under her chin to tilt her face up to look at him. Her eyes were bright with tears of her own and Chase felt horrible for creating them, but with his goal of finding Jack back at the forefront of his mind, he needed to get moving before Anti inevitably found him.

“We’ll be together soon sweetie, I promise”.

His daughter let out another huff of breath, her eyes moving to stare down towards the ground before wriggling her way out of his arms. Chase willingly let her go, watching as his daughter refused to meet his gaze and he was about to stand when an odd glint caught his attention.

From out beneath the bundle of blankets his daughter was carrying, came a long and sharp knife, the blade shining brightly even in the dimly lit room they were both in, the handle as black as a starless night sky and Chase’s blood ran cold.

“S-sweetie?”, he tentatively began as he slowly stood, his right hand coming up and reaching out for his daughter, not quite believing what he was currently seeing. Every fiber in his body was itching to turn around and run down the dark hallway and back out the door he had come in through. But staring down at his daughter, blade clutched tightly in her small fist…it was enough to bolster the small amount of courage that had been lying dormant within him.

“Stop this, Anti,” Chase spoke as he straightened himself out fully, bringing his hand back to his side, the digits curling in on themselves as he formed a fist, the blunt fingernails digging into the sensitive flesh of his palm. He stared down at the small figure that was the shell for the virus that plagued them all, bright blue eyes becoming cold and dark as a scowl spread across his face.

The figure that Chase had taken for his daughter refused to meet his angry gaze, choosing instead to continue looking down at the ground, shoulders rising and falling gently. Both were surrounded by silence and Chase was about to take a step forward when the small child started to laugh. It started off quiet and innocent, the sound light and airy before it grew louder and became dark and distorted around the edges and that all too familiar feeling of dread surged through Chase’s body. To his credit, he stood his ground, his small frame only shaking minutely as the loud laughter slowly faded into quiet chuckles.

“Oh, you always play the part of the fool so well, Chase”. The child in front of him turned their head towards him, one iris blue while the other was a sickly green, the calling card of Anti. All trace of warmth and understanding that had once been there was wiped clean and replaced with a vicious malice that seemed to be emanating from its small frame. A wicked grin was spread across the small face and the hand holding the knife snapped up unnervingly quick, a loud pop following the movement and Chase tried his best not to flinch.

The small figure took one step forward and as Chase blinked, they vanished, leaving only an empty spot in their place and the displacement of air as indication that they had been standing in front of him. Chase took a step back, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead and slowly make their way down the side of his face. He frantically looked around the small room, taking one more step forward before a burst of air hit him square in the face. The gush of air caught him by surprise and he let out a small gasp.

His eyes watered as he tried to open them against the pressure of air hitting him, just barely making out two flowing pigtails before he felt a sharp pain press and twist into him. The world became clear for a few brief moments, and he looked up to see the small figure of his daughter smiling crazily down at him, eyes flashing with sick enjoyment even as he coughed blood into her face. It painted a gruesome picture, one that Chase desperately wanted to wretch his eyes from, though he could feel every muscle in his body screaming out in protest. It was a struggle to move his eyes up and away from the devilish creature that was carving him like a jack-o-lantern, but he somehow managed.

Chase wasn’t sure what he was looking at when his attention diverted away, it was only a mess of colors and shapes but the more he stared at it, the more it became clear. The shape was tall, with something flowing behind it, like a cape. His eyes picked up on black gloves and somewhere in his fraying mind, it told him that they used to be white. Chase narrowed his eyes, a headache spreading through his head and pounding to the beat of his erratic pulse.

Dark black pants stuck out against the bright white that was beginning to eat away at the edges of his vision, followed by a bright blue tail coat that took shape before his eyes, the buttons shining brightly like the stars in the night sky. They nearly blinded him faster as his eyes trailed further up to spot a crisp white shirt and blue tie. The mess of bright green caught his attention before quickly falling back down to see a white, cat like mask looking back him, the owner scowling at him.

The red markings underneath the eye holes came into view, though the left side was drenched in blood, hiding the whiskers on the same side. Chase let out a small breath of air, closing his eyes slowly, he didn’t need to see the Five of a kind marking on the forehead to realize who it was that was attacking him. Instead, he tried to focus on the warm feelings of belonging and companionship that had first led him to this wretched place, praying that he could still somehow break through the barriers that had thwarted him. He slowed his breathing, trying to see past the pain before he felt his mind finally slip away, the whispers of his plea echoing off the walls of the room as his limp body fell to the floor.

_Jack…it’s Chase…please…wake up…_

-.-

Anti felt the corner of his left eye begin to twitch and he casually brought his hand up from his glass, placing his chin in the palm of his hand, resting his pointer and tall man finger against the edge of his eye. He had been listening to the woman, Tanya, go on and on about herself, only vaguely listening to her about her trip to the U.K. with her family as part of their annual vacation and only just remembering to nod his head and add a few vocal cues to indicate that he was listening.

His encounter so far with Tanya was about as pleasant as he expected-dull and exceedingly mind-numbing. The virus could care less about the trivial going-ons of her personal life, though he was minutely interested in how much she was willingly revealing to him after he paid for her drinks for the night. At first, she had refused, telling him that she could pay her own way for the night, but Anti wasn’t having any of it. He’d simply pulled out a handful of large bills and had order the bartender to keep making drinks so long as the money was there. After he waved around the wad of money and complimented her a few more times, she had relented and so it was that Anti found himself becoming increasingly bored.

That is, until his eye began to twitch.

Tanya was in the middle of telling him another god-awful story about her brother, her lips clearly moving but only half of her words reaching his ears. Anti took another sip of his drink, clearing his throat when he set the glass back down in order to gain her attention. She turned her eyes towards him, words faltering and dying on her lips as Anti slowly moved to stand.

“I just need to use the restroom, be right back”. He placed his hand onto her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze and winking at her as the small beginnings of a blush crept over the bridge of her nose. Her eyes flicked back and forth, from looking at him to back at the countertop of the bar, before she waved him off and turned to take a sip of her own drink. Anti chuckled, giving her shoulder one last squeeze before he made his way towards the restrooms.

The virus made his way across the bar and towards the furthest corner of the establishment, slipping down into a small hallway that dimmed the loud boom of voices and blaring music into something softer. As he made his way towards the restrooms, he saw the door to the men’s room open, a light turning off and a small black-haired Englishman walk out. He tipped his head wordlessly towards Anti and the virus reciprocated the wordless greeting, thankful that the men who frequented this place never seemed to waste precious breath on one other when beautiful women were aplenty.

Anti flicked on the switch, the light flickering into being and buzzing slightly as the loud whirring of a fan kicked in as he closed and locked the door behind him.

This would do nicely.

He walked towards the sink, placing his hands on either side, before bringing his eyes up to the mirror that sat above. Anti studied the face staring back at him for a moment, tilting his chin up and to the right, then the left. Jack’s beard was still patchy near the top where it met with his hairline, but it was thicker at the base of his chin. Anti brought his head back down, staring into his own eyes. In the dingy lighting of the restroom, he could make out the bags underneath his eyes, a testament to how little Jack actually slept. If he stared hard enough, the virus could make out the minute muscle spasms of his left eye and Anti let out breath of annoyance before closing his eyes and blocking out the sound of the fan and faint buzzing of the light.

“Come out then, I haven’t got all day”. Anti opened his eyes, the color in his left iris fading to be replaced with a bright green. His reflection stared back at him, the noises of the room coming back to him but this time, the sound of boots on tile accompanied them. Slowly, the virus could see a tall figure begin to take shape on the other side of the mirror, a piece of fabric billowing behind them as they walked closer, their footsteps becoming louder and louder.

They stopped when Anti could make out the curls of black and slashes of red, bringing up a hand to keep them at a small distance from the mirror. The virus stared at the white cat mask of Marvin the Magnificent, looking the polished young man up and down, cocking an eyebrow as he tilted his head to the side, smirk taking hold of the edges of his mouth.

“Well then…?”

Anti watched Marvin carefully, saw how the young man’s mouth thinned out into a straight line, shifting his weight from side to side warily.

“It’s done”. Marvin’s lips turned downwards, despite the younger man trying to duck his head as he quickly tipped it forward, bringing up a hand to place it over his breast bone.

The smirk fell from Anti’s face, the bright way his eyes had been flashing dimmed as he bowed his head. His grip around the edges of the sink tightened, and he could feel the muscles underneath strain and stretch beyond his host’s limits. A snort fell from Anti’s nose, an odd noise that joined the sounds of the buzzing light and whirring fan.

The virus curled in on himself, almost pressing his borrowed body flush against the cold sink, his lips parting slightly as he breathed in and out through his mouth. Marvin, to his credit, only minutely tilted his head down to gaze down at the virus, his own curiosity sinking in when suddenly Anti began to laugh. The younger man watched the way the older man’s shoulders began to shake heavily, the sound of the laughter becoming high pitched and almost deranged, as if someone were heading head first into a battle they knew they couldn’t win. The light in the restroom flickered, darkening the room considerably and Marvin watched as inky black tendrils wormed their way out from underneath the long sleeves of the shirt Anti wore and curled around his hands. The sounds from the other side of the mirror became slower, almost sounding as if there was a slow-motion effect being added to them.

Marvin had just mere seconds to snap his attention forward once more as Anti lunged forward, eyes wide and mad, like a dog gone berserk, all teeth and raw energy waiting to be unleashed onto its unsuspecting pray.

Anti continued to laugh crazily, tongue coming out to lick at his lips as he pushed himself from his place at the sink and turned his back to Marvin.

“Oh,” the virus moaned as his laughter quieted down and he allowed the black tendrils of his power crawl further up his body, sending a surge of energy coursing through his body. Anti took in a deep breath, trailing the tips of his fingers slowly up his body before resting them on top of his shoulders, digging in his nails into the flesh that was there. He let his head roll from side to side, allowing the energy he felt to override every other sense, letting himself become higher and higher until he felt as if he could fly or blow the entire building away if he so desired.

And then, all at once, Anti moved back to the mirror, his movements slightly lethargic and jerky. His limbs obeying his commands but just barely, and he gazed at Marvin with a sickening kind of lustful gaze that the virus normally reserved for his prey.

“Oh Marvin,” he began breathlessly as he continued to ride his high, cocking his hip to the side and bringing a hand up to run through his neat hair, mussing it up and allowing it to fall down onto his forehead in a messy manner.

“Yer such a good boy”. Marvin tipped his head forward slightly, taking Anti’s words for what they were, not bothering to give a verbal response. The younger man watched as the virus brought up a hand shakily, index finger coming up to caress the side of his face. Even though Marvin couldn’t physically feel Anti’s touch, he still felt a small shiver creep down his spine as his mind supplied him with the sensation.

Marvin heard Anti click his tongue and he watched as the virus leaned back from the mirror, eyes still clouded with a primal sort of hunger, but mouth upturned into a crooked grin. “Yer much too serious,” Anti purred, bringing a hand up so he could rest the tips of his pointer finger and thumb against his lower lip, “When will yeh just let meh ‘ave my way with yeh?”

Marvin remained stoic, taking a few moments to breathe in and out slowly, before giving Anti a response.

“When I have what I want”, he replied simply, his voice calm yet firm. The younger man watched Anti’s expression carefully, watched at the expression in those mismatched eyes seemed to remain unchanging before their striking color differentiation was blocked from his view as Anti closed his eyes.

“Yer awfully arrogant,” Anti began in a low voice as he opened his eyes once more, dropping his hand from his face as he turned his back on Marvin and leaned against the sink.

“Yer lucky I love a man who speaks his mind”, Marvin didn’t need to see the older man’s face to know the large smirk that was etched across his face, he could simply hear it in the way that Anti spoke.

“In any case, those incessant gnats shouldn’t be bothering meh right, meh little dove?”

The pet name made Marvin’s stomach churn angrily, but the younger man rolled his shoulders back and cracked a knot in his neck as he folded his arms neatly behind him. “Yes, Anti”, Marvin tipped his head towards the older man for what felt like the millionth time that night, grimacing in the short time he hid his face, and then quickly schooled his features. If this was what it took, then the young magician would do nearly anything to get what he was after, even if it meant sleeping in the den of a monster such as Anti.

“Excellent,” Anti pushed himself from his spot, back still turned to Marvin as he said, “Then off with yeh, I’ve still got business teh attend to”.

With a snap of his fingers, the sounds in the room resumed their normal speed, the black tendrils of his power crawling lazily back as he called out to it. Anti took a few moments to reign in the high he’d still been feeding off of before turning around to look back at just his reflection, mismatched eyes staring back at him.

He did love it when a plan came together so neatly for him.

Anti grinned wickedly, the last of his power flowing back as the iris color of his left eye turned back to that bright baby blue his host was known for. He turned on the faucet and ran his hands under the water a couple of times, running his fingers through his hair to get it back into some semblance of order. Once satisfied, he turned the running water off and dried his hands on the rough paper towels the bar kept and made his way back out into the main room.

He found Tanya idly twirling her tumble, drink almost gone, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips. Like this, she would be almost too easy for Anti, but then again, the virus was never one to overlook easy prey. Any excuse he could find to exert his strength over others always chalked up to be a good time in his mind.

“Hello love,” Anti called out to her in his pleasant Irish drawl, flashing her a dazzling smile when she turned her eyes up at him as he took his seat next to her.

“I was beginning to think you’d fallen in,” Tanya laughed light heartedly and tipped back the rest of her drink, a small bit escaping and dribbling down the side of her face. Anti watched the amber liquid leave its trail down the curve of her cheek before falling off the edge and the virus shifted in his seat.

“I’ve had my fill, what do you say we head out?”

Anti pushed his empty glass off to the side, signaling to the bartender to clean up their spot and turned his eyes to study Tanya’s face. The flush that had been there before he had left to have his chat with Marvin had spread down onto her neck and down her chest. Her pupils were slightly dilated and hazy, looking like she was after something more than just a causal drink. She brought a hand up to rest her chin on, casting her eyes to look down at Anti, her tongue coming out to swipe at her lips.

The virus cocked an eyebrow at how forward she was being, he hardly had to lift a finger this time around and he wasn’t sure if it annoyed him more than it aroused him.

“As long as I am in yer company, we can go anywhere,” Anti said as the bartender came over to collect their glasses and the virus slipped the man a few more large bills before beckoning Tanya to follow him out.

The night air was colder than when Anti had first stepped into the bar, a small wind picking up and he turned his eyes towards Tanya, watching as she pulled on her cropped black jacket, tugging it towards her small frame.

“Here,” Anti began as he lifted and arm, inviting her close and smiling warmly as she moved forward and nuzzled against the warmth radiating from him.

“Can’t believe you’re so warm,” there was amusement in Tanya’s voice as they began to walk away from the bar, the noise slowly fading as they continued on.

“Think of meh as yer own personal heated blanket,” Anti rumbled as he squeezed her shoulder. He was staring forward, taking note of the lack of people this time of night and planning on ducking down one of the side streets when he noticed her staring at him. He could see her looking up at him fondly, eyes wide with lips slightly parted, hands clutched around her coat and shaking from the cold and he felt her press her body more firmly against his.

Anti came to an abrupt stop, Tanya faltering slightly, before he turned to fully face her, hand still on her shoulder. The virus brought his free hand up, bringing his fingers underneath her chin and tilting it up just so. He started down at her emotionlessly as he heard her breath hitch slightly. Her eyes were wide and suddenly the fog that had been clouding them lifted, and life seemed to seep back into Tanya’s body. She tilted her head slightly, leaning forward, eyes falling down to stare down at Anti’s lips. The virus mimicked her motions, tilting his head just so before leaning in to close the distance between them and capture her lips.

The world around them came to a stuttering stop and Anti pulled away, smiling sweetly down at Tanya whose eyes were wide open and darting from side to side, before he grinned devilishly and ran his fingers through her annoyingly short hair. Like this, Tanya couldn’t move, much like the drunken man from earlier who Anti had scared off after giving him only a taste of what he had to offer. Anti leaned his face against her neck, opening his mouth and letting his breath wash over the exposed flesh there, reveling in her pathetic attempts at trying to speak.

“Hush now, little lamb,” he whispered as he ran his tongue up the side of her neck before snapping back to face her fully, eyes flashing dangerously, “I only want to play”.

Anti watched as she struggled to move her body, her limbs twitching as she ultimately failed in her attempts. The virus clicked his tongue, wagging a finger tauntingly back and forth as he placed a hand in his back pocket.

“Now, now, none o’ that,” in a swift motion, Anti brought out a pocket knife, flicking his wrist and freeing the blade trapped inside. It wasn’t anywhere near what his own knife was capable of, but as Anti brought it up to eye level and looked it over, he figured it would serve its purpose just fine.

He heard Tanya’s muffled whimpers, turning his brightly lit eyes back to her and pointing the blade at her chest, grinning like a madman as he let out a deranged little chuckle, blade still pointed straight at her. In a blur of quick movements, he expertly slashed at the thin jacket she had brought with her, tearing through the fabric as if it were butter, the pieces slowly falling away and falling to the ground.

In another swift movement, Anti reached out and grabbed the back of Tanya’s head, pressing the tip of his blade into her neck. He felt the fear wash over him and he greedily drank it in, gleefully taking in Tanya’s fearful expression as he pressed the blade just enough to draw a droplet of blood.

“Humans really are such fragile creatures,” the virus mused, watching the blood flow lazily down her neck and hit the top of her breasts, slowly staining the fabric of her dress.

“A shame, really,” he laughed hysterically as he brought the blade up from her throat and to his lips, poking out his tongue and sensually running it from the hilt up to the very point, allowing himself to flutter his eyes close and savor the sweet metallic taste as it filled his mouth. He snapped his eyes open, waving his knife in the air before thrusting his arm down towards Tanya’s chest once more.

Only it didn’t pierce skin.

The tip of the blade hovered near Tanya’s chest, a tremor running up from the tips of Anti’s fingers and straight for the muscles in his arm and shoulder. His left eye began to twitch out of irritation, the beginnings of his own energy trickling forward as he found that he couldn’t move his body. He swiveled his eyes to Tanya’s face to find that her once emerald green eyes were now a blindingly bright yellow, the very essence of confidence carved into her once fearful face and it only made Anti want to rip her limbs from her torso.

Slowly, she released herself from Anti’s now slack grip, nudging aside the arm extended out towards her chest, never once breaking eye contact.

“You’re not the only one who hides in plain sight,” she began slowly, free of his grasp and folding her arms across her chest, smirking at him as Anti internally seethed. The virus struggled against her energy, limbs twitching but only gaining a few inches each time. Furious, Anti dipped back down into his energy, grabbing an angry fistful and opening himself up as it surged forward. It snaked out and curled around his arms and legs and finally Anti retched himself free of her control, inky black energy oozing from his left eye as he let out a huff of breath in annoyance.

What was she? Anti had never seen anyone else like him before, at least, not this close. There was still the mystery surrounding that filthy American Jack fawned over and it was that very mystery that had put Anti in this fucking mess. The virus grit his teeth, anger bubbling over at the mere thought of that pompous voice and how it’d probably be looming over him, laughing in his face at how he had been played for the fool.

“Hm, impressive I’ll say,” Tanya’s smirk widened, “Unfortunately for you, it’s not impressive enough”. She lifted up a hand and snapped her fingers and in a sickeningly fast fashion, she managed to swat the knife from Anti’s grasp, turning her body around in such a fluid motion that Anti found himself dumbly trying to take it all in. Before the virus could even try and react, his knife was firmly pressed against his own throat, Tanya’s body pressing in around him as she wrapped her arms around him, one around his shoulders while the other was wrapped around his middle. Anti let out a bark of laughter and if it had been any other night, he might have been dangerously aroused.

“Yeh cunt,” was all Anti could manage before he felt a wave of her energy enclose around him and it felt like thousands of needles digging into him. He grunted against her, trying to worm his way out of her grasp when he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, the base of his skull beginning to itch as that familiar presence of Jack started to creep back in. Anti scowled, his anger quickly reaching a tipping point. He wasn’t ready yet, he hadn’t had the fun he’d been seeking out just yet, and he certainly wasn’t going to let that dumb bitch get the better of him. The virus felt Jack’s subconsciousness steadily grow stronger, like the Irishman was wading his way through tar, desperately trying to keep himself from drowning once again.

An idea tickled the edges of Anti’s mind, he hadn’t ever really needed to test this out before, seeing how most others were often helpless to his advances…but seeing how he had no other choice…

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep, slow breath before giving a little bit of himself away to Jack, gripping the Irishman’s mind and wrapping his own consciousness around it. Anti could feel Jack’s mind whirl around him, trying to leap out of the way like a dog who knew it had done something wrong, but this felt more like Jack’s mind was running on instinct rather than acting on conscious thought. Anti had to control the vicious urge he had to lash out and stomp down Jack’s mind, and for the brief moment he allowed himself to be fully immersed with the small part he had taken hold of, he felt weightless, as if he were floating.

When Anti opened his eyes next the world around him appeared to be more vibrant and he could make out even the smallest of details in the stilled world around him. It took him another moment to realize this was the part Jack’s mind he had connected with that was looking out at everything happening around him and as soon as the virus realized this, he opened his mouth and let out a loud cry.

Tanya cocked an eyebrow at Anti’s outburst, frowning in disapproval. She hadn’t quite expected someone like this man to be in control of such power to be crying out in such a feeble manner. She roughly yanked his body back towards her, “Shut your mouth,” and then under her breath added, “whiny piece of shit”.

She moved her arm that was placed firmly against his chest, running up it grasp his chin firmly in her hand and thrust it backwards to find a pair of wide, fearful blue eyes. Tanya raised her eyebrows in shock, head tilting to the side as she stared down into the eyes of her captive.

Those crystal blue eyes flickered from side to side, corner to corner, up and down as they tried to take in their surroundings before settling back to lock eyes with Tanya.

“P-Please, who-who are yeh? What’s going on?”

Tanya stared back down at those eyes, blue like the purest of waters like Orange Beach back home. Even that voice seemed to be that of a child, voice light and innocent as if just waking up from an afternoon nap, and it grated on Tanya’s nerves. She hadn’t been told that that dark energy would still be inhabiting a host body, and this only served to complicate things.

She loosened her grip slightly, watching as the panic slowly ebbed from her captive’s eyes, being replaced instead with an unsteady uneasiness that seeped from his being and crawled towards her. Tanya clicked her tongue in disgust, pressing the knife a little closer against the tender flesh of his neck, eliciting a sharp inhale from him.

“Keep it to yourself kid,” she huffed and shifted once again, reaching a hand up to tap at the hidden ear piece tucked safely away, there’d be hell to pay for this little slip.

“Please!” his body jerked, and his eyes grew wide once again, that suffocating uneasiness surging forward and making Tanya grunt at the sheer force with which it hit her. She scowled down at him, digging her fingers into his chin to try and keep him from making any other unnecessary movements. It did little to alleviate her problem and only served to exacerbate her captive as he frantically began to move his body back and forth, his hands twitching upright and shakily making their ways towards her arm.

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you kid?” Tanya grunted out in surprise, though she’d never verbally give him the credit she knew he deserved. Without his counterpart in control, he should have been nothing more than a mumbling mess, with his eyes being the only part of his body that he could move. Seeing him openly speak and now _actively_ pushing against her own power, Tanya wondered just how much this kid could take.

Her warning seemed to fly over his head though, as he cried out again and said, “Please! He-he’s gonna come back! Yeh have to believe me!” He was clenching his jaw so tightly that Tanya could see the veins in his forehead becoming more and more pronounced and couldn’t help but shake her head and laugh. So that’s what this was all about, the little change in personality was nothing more than her target trying to get a one up on her, but Tanya hadn’t been born yesterday.

She added more pressure to the blade against his throat, feeling the way the muscles worked as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple dipping out of her sight for a brief moment before coming back into view. Tanya leaned over him, narrowing her eyes as she let her breath wash over his face, taking in how that fear she had felt earlier came rushing back and she gladly took it in, exhaling as he blinked back.

“Don’t be upset that you’ve been beaten at your own game, kid”. She grinned slyly, pressing her lips to the tip of his nose before withdrawing with a small laugh as he stared dumbly up at her. She really didn’t have any time for more pleasantries, she needed to complete this before any other unexpected surprises happened. She felt the body in her grasp slacken ever so slightly and Tanya released her firm grip on her captive’s chin to bring back up to her left ear, tapping against the ear piece, waiting impatiently.

She tapped her foot, static the only other thing she could hear and sighed in annoyance when she felt the boy in her grasp shift slightly. She cocked an eyebrow once more, shocked that he was willing to move even after having his plan discovered, it wasn’t like he could really do anything---

Before she could even finish that thought, the boy thrusted himself onto the blade she held against his neck, the flesh giving way like butter and spraying out and onto her hand. Tanya cursed loudly, the warm liquid covering her hand and she jerked back on instinct, wiping away the blood on her dress as the boy brought both his hands up to the wound. Blood dribbled from his mouth, his words a grabbled mess as he fell to the floor, body convulsing.

_“Shit!”_ Tanya threw her knife to the ground, kneeling down and bringing her own hands to try and slow the bleeding. If this didn’t stop, she’d be out one hostage and any chance of spending the rest of the night in peace. Her golden eyes fell onto wide blue eyes, the color in their owner’s face become paler and paler and Tanya let out an exasperated breath. She lifted her hands from the wound, wrenching the boy’s hands away from his throat, despite his protests, and held them firmly above his head.

“You’ll die from your own mistake, boy” she growled in anger, digging her nails into the flesh of into his wrists as she watched the color of his eyes slowly fade, his jerky movements going still, before she threw his hands down onto the ground. She looked down at the lifeless body in disgust, wiping her hands on the shirt he wore before slowly getting up, she hated delivering bad news. She turned her back to the mess on the floor, tired of looking at the boy, and tried to get in contact with her superiors once more. Tanya eyes the knife, debating on whether or not she wanted to keep it for future uses, before reaching down anyway and twirling it around in her hand as she waited.

It was always strange when he came to life this way, it was like waking up from a deep sleep, your brain slowly sending signals to each of your limbs, nerves waking up eventually to tell your body to start your day. For Anti, it always reminded him of how he had felt when he’d first came into being, and he couldn’t fathom what life had been like prior to his awakening. He could feel the phantom presence of Jack, the Irishman’s mind ebbing away back to his corner, still not entirely aware of what was going on or just how Anti had used him. This was the first time Anti had tried melding their minds into one, he’d always been curious about what would happen to them if he did while in the driver’s seat.

He had all at once been Anti but also Jack at the same time, two minds once separate but made into one. It’d been odd and jarring, something the virus wasn’t too sure he’d try again anytime soon. Hopefully, he’d never have to after tonight.

Anti slowly opened his eyes, the stilled world around him greeting him back to the land of the living, and he could hear soft spoken words. The virus quietly took inventory over his body, testing out his limbs before he slowly gathered the energy to heave his body from the ground.

“I ain’t easy, princess,” he snarled, and Anti wiped at the blood from his neck, breathing in deeply as he finally felt his energy come to life. The black energy flowed from the neck wound, wrapping itself snuggly against Anti’s body. He sneered at Tanya cracked his neck, releasing the tension that had built up there.

“I don’t have time for this,” Tanya growled angrily and lunged towards Anti, knife firmly in hand as she aimed at him.

Anti couldn’t help the laugh that left his throat, rolling back his shoulders and swung his own knife to meet hers head on. This wasn’t how he’d expected this night to go, but it certainly wasn’t as disappointingly dull as it had been hours earlier. A crazed look took over Anti’s face, his eyes becoming impossibly wider as they became mismatched, shining brightly as he lashed out at Tanya with his own energy. It flew from his hand, latching onto her small frame easily and Anti pushed forward, tossing his weight into her body and throwing her off balance.

She grimaced in annoyance, letting herself fall back before grabbing a fistful of Anti’s shirt, yelling out as she used his momentum to throw him over her body as she fell to the ground. The virus smirked, body flickering like a cracked screen on a cellphone, before he disappeared entirely. Body moving faster than Tanya could keep track of and as she struggled back up, Anti popped back in front of, causing Tanya to jerk back only to have Anti flicker away and appear behind her. He brought his knife straight up into the air, throwing himself down onto her, driving the knife through her flesh this time.

The world around them cracked around the edges and Anti took a few moments to take a couple of deep breaths before lifting himself up from the ground. He could hear Tanya gasping for air, words leaving her mouth in a garbled mess, body twisting around to try and get another look at Anti, but the virus wasn’t having any of it. He drove the heel of his shoe onto her back, eliciting a cry of pain from Tanya who whimpered quietly, body twitching before slowly becoming still.

Anti frowned, bored expression back on his face as he bent down to pluck his knife from the dead woman’s back, using her dress to wipe the rest of her blood off of it and bringing it up to his face to inspect it better.

Yes, Anti was a force to be reckoned with, and was most certainly, unequivocally, _not a pet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egos, egos everywhere!


	5. Chapter 5

His character frantically reached out for the gun, his fingers fumbling with it as he tried to get into the truck at the same time and Mark grunted in frustration as rapid gun fire hit his character in the back, blood spraying out and staining the clothes the character had on. Mark's eyes flickered down to his minimap in the bottom left corner as his character struggled to hot wire the truck he had climbed into, the sounds of voices becoming louder as more gun fire pierced the air around him.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit..." Mark muttered under his breath, shifting in his seat and pressing the wrists of his hands more firmly against the wood of his desk. The truck roared to life and Mark was finally able to drive away. Not a moment sooner did he drive off the main road did a cut scene play, and Mark took the cutaway to sit back in his chair and take in what was happening. He watched as the group of men pursuing his character glared off angrily at his disappearing tail lights, not the least bit perturbed as their ring leader wordlessly motioned for the rest of his group to take off after him. Mark’s eyes quickly flitted up to his camera, the little red light a steady reassurance that he was still recording and that his battery wasn’t dead yet. He hadn’t really said much, relying on the dialog of the game to fill in the dead air, but now, he wasn’t too sure of how much he’d have to edit out.

The cutscene ended abruptly and Mark was once again thrusted into the game, his hands flying out to his keyboard and quickly taking control of the truck his character was driving. Angry shouts sounded far too close for his liking and Mark had his character wildly veer off to the side, truck making a half circle before driving into the men pursuing him, crashing into them with a satisfyingly loud _crash_.

Mark grinned and laughed loudly, looking up to his camera and saying, “Those guys can’t keep a guy like me down!” and then added, “no sir…” Mark’s voice trailed off as he concentrated on firing his gun at two more cars that came barreling towards him, hitting one target but missing the other one as it flew by him, tires digging into the dirt and wheeling around to chase after him. It went on like this for a few more minutes before Mark accidentally hit the wrong button while his truck bounced off a small hill, his character bailing out and landing on the ground with a hard _splat_.

“No, no! Get up damn it!” Mark yelled desperately at the game, mashing the buttons on his keyboard as his character got up achingly slow, the sound of cars coming closer and bullets firing. It did him no good as the cars quickly got up to him and Mark began to wildly run about, screaming and yelling at his character and calling himself an idiot before his character was inevitably gunned down.

The death screen came up and Mark pinched the bridges of his nose, making noises of discontent. That hadn’t been at all what he’d meant to do, and he was more annoyed at himself than at the game, but he’d already spent two hours playing it and he was beginning to feel lightheaded from staring at the screen for so long. Mark leaned back in his chair again, cracking his fingers on each hand as he considered taking a quick break. His eyes fell on his camera once again, reaching up slowly to turn it off and leaning back in his chair with a huff of breath escaping him.

He tossed his headphones aside, turning down the volume of the main menu screen and turning around in his chair to find Chica curled up on her bed, nose tucked into one of her favorite toys, her shoulders rising and falling gently, and he smiled as he stood and moved over to her.

She stirred slightly, her eyes blinking open at the sound of Mark getting up from his chair, her eyes following him as he came closer, her tail wagging slowly as she appeared to wake up.

“Hey Chica, who’s my good sleepy girl?”, Mark asked in that baby talk voice of his. He didn’t care what others thought about if they found him blubbering like an idiot to his animals, he felt an immense love for them, and he simply wanted to make that clear despite Chica being unable to fully comprehend his words. Her tail began to thump loudly at the pitch of his voice, her head coming up slightly as she yawned and rolled over, exposing her belly to him as her tail continued to wag happily.

Mark slowly sank to his knees, stretching out a hand to run the tips of his fingers through Chica’s fur before laying his body down beside her bed. She rolled back over, moving her head to sit on the edge of her bed and let out a huff of breath in his face, tongue coming out to lick at her nose. A smile spread across Mark’s face, eyes crinkling at the edges as a warm sensation filled his entire being and he sighed contentedly, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through her fur.

It’d been a full three weeks since he had talked with Jack, and a full three weeks since his run-in with Dark. Mark’s hand faltered slightly, catching on a section of matted fur in Chica’s coat and he made a mental note to brush her after her morning walk. Her head jerked up to stare at him, another huff of breath leaving her nose and tongue coming out to gently lick at his fingers.

“Sorry baby girl,” Mark ruffled the fur on the top of her head, giving her reassuring pats on the head before she conceded and laid back down.

“Sorry…” he whispered, his eyes falling downwards to stare down at her fur, his eyes clouding over slightly as he lost himself in his thoughts.

Mark could vaguely remember the last conversation he had with Jack, flashes of words popping up in his head, but it was like he was staring at them without the help of his glasses or contacts to be able to see them properly. They were there, on the tip of his tongue, but his mind was drawing a blank and it didn’t sit well with him. Dark must have intervened, must have spoken through him, but since that night the creature had laid low, not even bothering to rise with Mark every morning and taunt him as he’d been previously doing. It was strange to think that this was odd behavior for Dark, everything seemed to carry some sort of peculiarity when it concerned him. What was stranger still, was Mark’s lack of initiative in wanting to figure out what had transpired between Jack and Dark.

Normally, Mark would have been all over the creature, asking question after question about what he had done and what he had said, but something in Mark told him that he didn’t want to go snooping around this time. If he did, it’d be the last time he’d see the world through his eyes and Mark hated the way he seemed to easily cave in and back off, giving Dark his space and not provoking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over them.

So instead, what Mark told himself was that he didn’t want to know what had happened that night. He didn’t want to appear on edge the next time he spoke to Jack, he wanted to make sure everything was still easy between them, pretend that everything was normal. Mark wanted to forget, wanted to imagine that nothing had gone on and that it’d all been just a dream, or better yet, had never happened.

He’d have to lie to Jack if the younger man brought anything up and Mark took in a deep breath, heart already beating rapidly against his chest at the thought of his next conversation with the Irishman. It wasn’t in Mark’s nature to lie about something like this, if he’d done or said something stupid, he wanted to apologize for it, and make amends. But Mark didn’t want to accept the amount of control that was steadily slipping from his grasp, just the mere thought of it sent a wave of panic down Mark’s spine and the older man shuddered, his teeth _clacking_ together painfully as he willed the thought away.

No, everything would be fine, Mark just had to keep at it. He had to show Dark that he wasn’t as weak as he made him out to be, that he was a force to be reckoned with and wouldn’t back down just because things had gone up a difficulty level. If he could hold out one more day, then that would lead to another, and then another. It’d be fine, Mark didn’t need to drag anyone else down with him, he _could_ do this, _would_ do this on his own.

If nothing else, he was stubborn enough to at least give it his all.

A chirp came from his from his computer, the familiar _ping_ of Discord alerting him that he had received a new message. Mark ignored the call back to his desk, his limbs ignoring the impulses his brain sent to rouse him from his place on the floor. Mark closed his eyes, his hand falling off of Chica and onto her bed and he only just realized how tired he was, his stomach quietly growling. He was going through a mental list of what he had available in his fridge when another chirp from his computer broke his train of thought, another quickly following suit.

Mark furrowed his brow, a groan coming up from his throat and out of his mouth in a loud, obnoxious fashion, Chica perking up instantly and whirling around to stare at Mark with her head titled to one side.

He had sent off a group message to Bob and Wade, asking if they wanted to make a video together and throwing out a couple ideas of what they could do. It’d been earlier on in the day, when he had been freshly showered and properly caffeinated, while the ideas were fresh in his mind. Mark had been eager to get to work as well and had been up until he had hit a wall and found himself laying down on the floor.

Chica prodded Mark’s body with her snout, making soft snorting noises as she tried to rouse him the more incoherent noise he made. Mark only gently swatted at her, fingers softly grazing the tip of her nose as he tried to get her to stop. He didn’t want to work at the moment, he only wanted to eat and then sleep, it’d already been a long day and he was ready for it to end.  
It wasn’t until his phone loudly vibrated against the wood of his desk, making him jump and bop Chica hard on her nose, that he finally sat upright. He quietly apologized to Chica, bringing both his hands up to rest on either side of her face and rub tiny circles into her temples. She didn’t seem at all perturbed by his actions, just appearing more grateful that he had finally sat up and in turn, sat up along with him.

Mark grumbled to himself, slowly standing up as Chica followed his lead, stretching her long body out before shaking and rooting around in her bed, sniffing at her toy before snatching it up and tossing it up in the air. She was clearly ready to play, intent on having Mark join her as she nudged the toy into Mark’s side, soft growl escaping her pated lips. His phone continued to vibrate, and he quickly leaned down to grab at Chica’s toy, but she leapt out of the way, going down on her front legs and wagging her tail high in the way, growling at him once more. At any other time, Mark would have instantly played with her, forgoing the ringing of his phone and calling back whoever was waiting on the other end, but for whatever reason, he felt as if he needed to answer and so he moved to snatch his phone off from the desk.

“Hello?”, he called into the phone, turning around to try and reach for Chica’s toy once more. She pulled back a couple more times, muffled noises coming from the other end of the call, until Mark finally grabbed a tiny fraction of her toy, griping it and taking it away from her. She barked softly, and Mark laughed quietly, taking the phone away from his ear and moved to throw her toy down the hall and into the other room. He could hear the sound of his name being called at the same time Chica’s nails _clacked_ against his wood flooring and into the other room where he had thrown her toy, and he quickly brought his phone back up to his ear as he followed her.

“Hey?” he asked into the receiver, unsure of who it was that had been calling him, he’d been too preoccupied with Chica to really bother looking down at the caller ID. There was more muffled noise before the voice on the other end became clear and it sent a shiver down Mark’s spine.

“Heya, Markimoo”.

Jack sounded as chipper as ever and Mark had to blink a couple of times, taking his phone away from his ear to stare down at the time on his phone. The small white seven stared back at him, along with a picture of himself and Jack at one of their very first panels together, quickly coming up with the time difference between them and balked.

“Hey there, Jack” he began slowly, reaching down to grab at Chica’s toy and throw it back down the hallway. Her nails sounded once more against his wooden floors, the soft sound of his socked feet following after her as Mark heard the Irishman laugh on the other end of their connection.

“A bit late for you, isn’t it?” Mark followed up after his initial greeting, letting out a small laugh of his own as he watched Chica pounce on her toy and take it back to her bed.  
Mark heard Jack let out another breathy laugh, as if the mere concept of, “late”, was something the younger man didn’t believe in and couldn’t understand why Mark would believe in its concept.

“Couldn’t sleep,” came the simple answer, leaving Jack’s mouth quickly and easily and Mark cocked an eyebrow at that, moving back to his desk and taking a seat in his chair. He swiveled away from the bright monitors staring back at him, his head still hurt, and he remembered that he had yet to eat anything, or rather, come up with a plan on what he should eat.

“Sleep is for the weak huh?” Mark gently teased, a small smile playing on the edges of his lips as he quoted the Irishman. It was one of many famous quotes that others knew him by, and it was something Mark found to extremely fitting for him. It always seemed like Jack would only sleep when his body had nothing left to give, finally shutting down against the younger man’s surprisingly strong will. Often, Penny would send him pictures that depicted Jack hunched over his desk, headphones skewed, and glasses pushed off at a weird angle, or beanie pushed to cover his eyes from the harsh light of the computer screen. And while it had always been tempting to save those images and use against the Irishman should a time ever arise, Mark had always deleted the messages from his phone, he simply wasn’t that type of guy.

“Well…” Jack began in that tone of voice that alluded to him either trying to think of something funny to say or give himself time to come up with an excuse that he hadn’t used on the older man yet. Mark’s money was on the latter rather than the former, Jack’s voice sounded a little raspy, like he hadn’t been talking much and he’d only just opened his mouth to start talking to Mark.

“Okay,” Jack conceded, and Mark nodded his head as if Jack could see him doing so, knowing where this was going.

“I was just worried about yeh, thought I’d give yeh a call is all”.

Worried? About him? Really?

It wasn’t that this was abnormally behavior for the Irishman to exhibit, hell, just a few years ago Jack had helped through a particularly rough patch in his career. Everything had seemed so dismal and gray, nothing grabbing his attention and motivating him to strive for something more. Mark had teetered on the edge, staring down into a bottomless pit and it was during that year that things had become extremely difficult with Dark. The creature had fed upon his pain and suffering and had grown almost completely unstable, lashing out and making Mark break things around the house, planting dark thoughts into Mark’s head that had the older man contemplating the unthinkable.

But it had been Jack, that annoyingly bright and optimistic personality of his, who took hold of him and pulled Mark back up into the world of color and noise. It had served to anger Dark, but the creature had slunk off into whatever black hole he had crawled out of, still present in the back of Mark’s mind as he looked out into the world through his eyes. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose again, abruptly getting up from his chair and starling Chica to rise and walk towards the open door to his office. Mark didn’t understand why now, of all times, he was remembering something like that as he walked out of the room and down the stairs. That year was particularly painful for him to recount, and he didn’t know if he wanted to continue this conversation.

Or maybe Jack was catching on, noticing how he’d dance around certain topics more frequently. Or worse yet, perhaps Dark had let something slip, perhaps the devilish creature had let something slip when he’d been in control. Maybe that was why Jack had decided to call him out of the blue. Normally, Jack calling him out the blue like this wouldn’t have had him this wound up, but just the thought of Dark talking to Jack was enough to make the older man grind his teeth. He’d have to tread carefully if he didn’t want to raise any flags with the Irishman, he’d have to make sure to keep the conversation going in one direction.

“Well, there’s nothing to worry about,” Mark wearily supplied as he flicked on a light switch and his kitchen was bathed in light. He made his way over to the fridge, Chica following close behind him and sneaking past to drink out of her water dish. There wasn’t anything jumping out at Mark, his hunger having suddenly disappeared as a strange weight had filled his stomach. Annoyed, he shut his fridge, moving towards one of his cabinets to grab a glass so he could pour himself a glass of water, maybe it would help with his pounding head.

He walked over to his sink to grab the pitcher of water, placing the glass down and filling it up.

“Yeh sure?” came Jack’s concerned voice, “maybe yer the one who should get some rest”. A tiny chuckle followed, and it only made Mark sigh on his end of the line. No, he didn’t really mind the concern that Jack was showing him, it was more that he didn’t really want to talk with anyone at the moment but was having a difficult time trying to come up with an acceptable excuse and so suffered through it instead.

Mark set the pitcher of water down with a little more force than he’d intended, the thought crossing his mind leaving a bad taste in his mouth, but he pushed it aside and gulped down the water.

“Okay,” Mark began as he set the glass down, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, “you caught me”. He set the glass back down a refilled it and the corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile as he heard Jack click his tongue disapprovingly at him.

“Yeh should listen to ol’ Jackaboy ‘ere an’ get some rest,” Jack said, his accent a little thicker as he laid it on heavily for the older man.

“Oh, but uh,” Jack’s voice sounded again, sounding slightly hesitant and Mark listened quietly as he cleared his throat and breathed lightly into the phone.

“Go on,” Mark answered, leaning against the counter of his kitchen, looking down for a brief moment to see that Chica was sniffing at her bowl of food, hesitant before opening and grabbing a mouthful. Mark would have to make sure to let her out before he finally called it a night.

“Well…” Jack cleared his throat again, the sound of creaking metal filling up the silence before the Irishman spoke up.

“The reason I called is…” again Jack hesitated and again, Mark waited. Honestly, it sounded as if Jack had some grave new to tell him and for the life of him, the older man couldn’t fathom what sort of news it would be. Certainly, it would be the other way around, with Mark calling Jack if anything particularly devastating was happening, unless it was something personal in which case, Jack’s hesitation was more than perfectly acceptable. It made Mark draw his brow down into a frown, his mouth forming a thin line as he contemplated what it was Jack was about to tell him when the Irishman spoke and broke his train of thought.

“I was wondering if you were heading out to PAX West this year”. The question was simple enough, so simple that it took Mark a few moments to acknowledge that he had indeed heard the words Jack had spoken.

“Well sure,” and then a bit firmer, “of course”. Mark’s confusion only increased, not quite understanding why Jack had hesitated as he’d done, and it made the American shiver slightly, free hand shaking slightly as he brought it up to wrap around himself. A heavy weight felt like it was being pressed into his chest, a faint whisper brushing past his ear and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Mark brought a hand up to brush the back of his neck, running the tips of his fingers against the short strands at the base before tilting his head from side to side, reveling in the small popping sounds.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked casually, still craning his neck back and forth. Honestly, it would probably do him some good to be out and about with people. Despite how loud and obnoxious he could be in front of the camera, Mark liked having time to himself. He liked being able to bask in front of his television, pants on the floor with remote in hand as he flicked through his Netflix account to find something to watch. Although, nowadays it felt like Dark was prowling through his mind, crouching just out of sight but moving around with just enough force that Mark was certain the creature didn’t want him to forget that he existed, no matter how hard the man tried to forget.

“Because of the break-in”.

Mark’s hand paused over the spot where his fingers were massaging the tender flesh of his neck, the words spoken so bluntly and openly that they caught him off guard. Of all the things Jack could have said…and he said _that_ …

In an instant Mark felt lightheaded, his mouth feeling incredibly dry and hand gripping his phone tighter as he tried to stifle his rising panic. Of course, Jack would be worried about something like that, why wouldn’t he be? The two of them had been friends for four years and over time had grown so close that their friends often teased them about being “brothers”. And of course, any sane person would be worried about their friend in a situation like this, and maybe Mark was making something out of nothing. He could feel Dark’s eyes burning holes in the back of his head, the creature’s amusement over the situation unmistakable and Mark had to fight the urge to snort at him for fear of sounding indifferent to Jack’s concern.

“Oh yeah…that…” Mark frowned, his eyebrows drawing together, his stomach tightening up as that familiar pang of regret hit him. It wasn’t like PAX West was happening anytime soon, it wasn’t until the end of August and they weren’t even halfway through July yet. The, “break-in” Mark had crafted had happened earlier in June, surely by the end of August people would expect him to get back into working on videos and scheduling collaborations with other YouTubers in the LA area…

Why was Jack’s concern even bothering him so much in the first place? Mark ran a hand down his tired face, vaguely aware of Jack’s voice getting higher in pitch as the Irishman tried to retract his last statement, something about thinking out loud too much lately, but Mark wasn’t even listening at that point, it was just senseless gibberish to his ears as he tried to pinpoint where his growing irritation was coming from, though he had a good idea who was truly responsible.

**I’m hurt, Markimoo, I thought you were better than that.**

Dark’s taunting voice crawled up the back of his neck, voice ghosting across the shell of Mark’s ear and causing the man to shiver and swat at the empty space. The creature had paused in its endless stalking, walking closer towards the light and Mark could almost make out the hungry way his eyes looked out at the world before him.

_Stay out of this Dark._

Mark tiredly replied back, giving Jack a grunt of acknowledgement to let the other man that he hadn’t dropped dead yet. The younger man was still talking a hundred miles a minute, and now that Dark had decided to speak up, Mark’s attention was fixated on making sure the creature stayed on his own side. The last thing he needed was Dark getting ideas about crossing the imaginary boundary Mark had drawn up once again, he didn’t need Jack questioning his mental state any more than he surely was.

**You can’t hide from what’s always been here, Mark.**

His voice was dripping with malice, crafting the words carefully and drawing out the vowels in certain places to make a point that he believed he was very much in control of the situation. It infuriated Mark to no end and he had a retort on the tip of his tongue when he felt Dark shift backwards, could feel the creature taking a bow, its eyes visible every time Mark blinked.

**You’ll see, we were meant to be.**

And then he was gone, Mark couldn’t even feel him stalking around inside of his head anymore. Dark had just upped and vanished and had left him alone without so much as a fight, no threats, no cold promises of tearing him limb from limb and destroying everything he’d worked so hard to create for himself. The annoyance all but seeped out of him, being replaced instead with confusion and worry of his own and Mark cleared his throat, the sound echoing off the walls of his kitchen and sounding harsh against the relative silence of his house.

“… I didn’t mean teh assume anythin’ or the make yeh feel put out or…”

“Jack, it’s all right dude, just calm down,” Mark let out a small laugh, the edges of it sounding nervous to his ears but he chalked it up to just feeling anxious about Dark toying with his emotions early on in his conversation with the younger man.

“Heh, sorry man, I’m just sorry ‘bout not being there fer yeh…” Jack’s voice grew quite towards the end and Mark bit the inside of his lip as his own guilt came up to clench around his heart, but he let out a shaky breath of air, closing his eyes to will away the tears he could feel pricking at the corners.

“No worries, just being able to talk to you is enough”. Mark meant that, having Jack to talk to was one of the greatest things his friend from across the pond could do at the moment. But it did little to quell the guilt he still felt about having to cover up the real reason, but Jack didn’t need to be involved in the fucked-up situation Mark found himself in. If anything, he didn’t need to give Dark yet another reason to torment him.

“Don’t worry, soon I’ll be back, and we can hang out and talk about stupid shit”.

The corners of Mark’s lips twitched upwards and he bowed his head, the bangs of his hair falling down to cover his eyes as a single tear fell.

“Yeah, that sounds great Jack”. Mark let out a shaky breath, bringing a hand up to rub at his face, scrubbing away the tears that were continuing to fall. He pressed his face into the sleeve of his shirt, sniffling into it as he held the phone away from his face.

“Can’t wait,” Mark added as he brought the phone back to his face, laughing lightly and maybe he could make this work, and maybe he’d been worrying about all of this for nothing. So long as Jack was kept safe from Dark, that was all that really mattered, right?

“But uh...tell meh, Markimoo,” Jack’s voice cut through the brimming happiness that was making Mark’s face fell warm and his making his heart flutter in excitement at what he could accomplish. The words slipping through to his ear should have sounded off to him, should have been the only warning he needed to know that something was off. But he didn’t, all he could feel was unbridled happiness at finally being able to see the light at the end of a long dark tunnel, but he really should have known better.

“Does that _darkness_ miss me?”

-.-

The lights inside the home finally blinked off, the figure looking over their shoulder and motioning for their companion animal to follow them. It was only then that they stood from their perch on the rooftop across from the home they were gazing at, their head tipping back as their eyes fell on the person behind them.

“We’ve found him. Now is our time to strike.” Quick, straight forward, curt, this was how the operation was meant to be. Both of them would get in and get out, obtain the information their client wanted, and then dispose of the body. There were to be no loose ends, everything needed to end convincingly given the circumstances of their target.

“Our client wants us to track, Bliss. This isn’t something internal.”

Bliss’ eyes narrowed angrily at her cohort, flecks of violent chasing away the dull brown of her irises. Jade was right, as much as she hated to admit it, but that didn’t mean she had to be okay with how their client wanted them tracking instead of attacking. Bliss let out a snort, closing her eyes and taking in a few deep breaths before opening them back up to stare down at the house below them, her eyes back to the brown they’d been before.

“Fine, but when the time comes, he _will_ die”.


End file.
